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CHRISTIAN ORATOR, 

OR 

A COLLECTION OF SPEECHES, 

DELIVERED ON 

PUBLIC OCCASIONS, 

BEFORE RELIGIOUS 

BENEVOLENT SOCIETIES. 

TO WHICH IS PREFIXED 

AN ABRIDGMENT OF WALKER’S 

ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION* 


Designed for the use of Colleges , Academies and Schools „ 
BY A GENTLEMAN OF MASSACHUSETTS. 



CHARLESTOWN : 

PRINTED BY S. ETHERIDGE, 

For Cushing &. Jewett, and F Lucas, Baltimore ; sold 
by them, and by YV W Woodward, M. Carey & Son, 
Philadelphia ; S. Wood & Sons, and J. Eastburn Jk Co., 
New-York ; Seward Jk Williams, Utica; Messrs Web- 
sters, Albany : Howe and Spalding, New Haven : Hudson 
and Co, G. Goodwin &. Sons, and Goodrich, Hartford: 
Lincoln and Edmands, S. T. Armstrong anu West, Rich- 
ardson, Lord, &c Co., Boston G. Clark, Charlestown. 

1819 . > 


DISTRICT OF MASSACHUSETTS, TO WIT : 


District Clerk's OJ/ice. 


(L.S) Beit remembered. That on the twenty-sixth 
clay of December, A D eighteen hundred and 
seventeen, in the forty-second year of the independence 
of the United States of America, Samuel Etheridge, 
of the said District, has deposited in this Office the title of 
a book, the right whereof he claims as proprietor, in the 
won's following to wit : \ 

“ The Christian Orator ; or, a collection of speeches 
delivered on public occasions before religious benevolent 
societies. To which is prefixed an abridgment of Walker’s 
Elements of Elocution. Designed for the use of colleges, 
academies, and schools. By a Gentleman, of Massa- 
chusetts.” 

in conformity to the act of the Congress of the United 
States, entitled, “An act for the encouragement of learn- 
ing by securing the copies of maps, charts and books, to 
the authors and proprietors of such copies, during the 
times therein mentioned and also to an act entitled, 
“ An Act. supplementary to an act, entitled, an Act for the 
encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of 
maps, charts, and books, to the authors and proprietors 
such copies during the times therein mentioned ; and 
extending the benefits thereof to the ans of designing, en- 
graving and etching historical and other prints.” 


JOHN W. DAVIS 



PREFACE TO FIRST EDITION. 


WE live in a remarkable period of the 
world ; in a period when revolutions of 
the most extensive and momentous char- 
acter are occurring with a rapidity alto- 
gether without a parallel. The darkness, 
which, for so many ages hps covered the 
intellectual, political, and moral pros- 
pects of man, is vanishing away, and 
scenes of unexampled brightness are 
every where opening to our view. The 
customs, which were generated and nour- 
ished by the heathenism and infidelity of 
former days, are melting away before 
Schools, and Missionaries, and Bibles. 
Even war, so fruitful in misery, and 
which has reigned without control ever 
since the flood, is beginning to yield its 
dominion ; and in its room a spirit of 
peace, and of heavenly benevolence, has 
gone forth, to unite in one happy family, 
all the children of Adam. 


11 


PREFACE. 


Such a radical change in the feelings 
of men, requires, and will produce, a cor- 
responding change in the institutions of 
society. Such a change has already ap- 
peared in the periodical productions of 
the press. The columns of our news- 
papers, which were formerly employed 
in feeding a murderous spirit of hostility 
towards foreign nations, and in kindling 
the flame of discord among brethren at 
home, are now employed in promoting 
the exertions, and proclaiming the tri- 
umphs of Christian benevolence. 

It is worthy of consideration, whether 
changes of this auspicious character may 
not be extended. Every one, who has 
examined the collections of speeches in 
the Reading books, commonly put into 
the hands of children at our academies 
and common schools, must have observ- 
ed, that they contain many, which 
breathe unhallowed feelings ; a spirit of 
pride and revenge, of ambition and war ; 
a spirit wholly opposed to the gentleness 


PREFACE. 


iii 

and humility of the Gospel. How in- 
congruous is this with the temper of these 
times ! While the emperors of the earth 
are laying aside their laurels, and leagu- 
ing together to put an end to war, the 
children of Christian parents are taught 
to glow in unholy admiration of heroes 
and conquerors. While thousands are 
contributing to diffuse the precepts of 
the Gospel among the distant heathen, 
our own children are learning the max- 
ims and sentiments of heathen orators 
and moralists. 

To remedy this evil, it has been 
thought advisable to publish a collection 
of speeches for the youth of our country, 
more in harmony with the spirit of the 
times, and adapted to enlist their feelings 
and energies in carrying forward the 
grand schemes of benevolence, which are 
now in successful operation throughout 
the church and world. Such has been 
the object of the Compiler of the follow- 
ing volume. His situation has given him 


iv 


PREFACE. 


access to a great variety of materials ; 
and it is presumed, that, in point of 
genuine eloquence, many of the speeches 
in this volume, are not surpassed by any 
which this age has produced. 

An abridgment of Walker’s Elements 
of Elocution, a work which stands first 
in its kind in the estimation of the pub- 
lic, is, with obvious propriety, prefixed 
to this work. 

As this is designed to be a reading 
book in common schools, as well as to 
furnish declamations for students in our 
colleges and academies, the speeches are 
divided into sections, and numbered, for 
the convenience both of instructors and 
scholars. 

That the work may promote the cause 
of religion and humanity, is the sincere 
wish of 

THE COMPILER. 


Jan . 1, 1818. 


ADVERTISEMENT TO THE SECOND EDITION, 


THE favorable reception which the 
public have given to the first Edition of 
this work has induced the Compiler to 
revise it with care, to alter the arrange- 
ment of the pieces, and to give variety 
to the Selection by the addition of Poetry 
and Dialogues. The new matter has, of 
course, excluded the less interesting parts 
of the old volume. The abridgment of 
Walker’s Elements of Elocution, in the 
introduction to the Volume, has been 
condensed, and rules for reading Poetry 
from the same author have been added. 
It is believed that the labor which has 
been spent upon this Edition will make 
the work more worthy of the patronage 
of the public. 

My 27, 1818. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE. 

Elements of Elocution - - 9 

Bible Society Speeches, 

54 
58 
62 
63 

Address of the American Bible Society - 66 

Speech of Rev. Dr. Mason - 68 

Charles Grant, jr. Esq. - - - 7i 

The Bible above all price, by Rev. Edward Payson 74 
Speech of George Griffin, Esq. - - 79 

Peter A. Jay, Esq. 8 « 

Missionary Speeches. 

The office of the Christian Missionary, noble and 

elevated, by llev. R. Hall - - 88 

Christianity and Paganism contrasted, by Rev. G. T. 

Noel - 90 

The claims of Africa, by John S. Harford, Esq. <J2 

An objection to Missions answered, by J. S. Harford 95 
Speech of Rev. J. H. Singer - - - 98 

On the danger of sending Missionaries to the heathen, 

by Rev. Mr. Bickersteth - - 101 

Speeches on War. 

On the horrors of war, by Robert Hall - 103 

Peace and war contrasted, by li Hall - 108 

Character of the European war, by H. Hall 110 

The splendor of war, an obstacle to its extinction, by 

ev.T, Chalmers - 114 

T oly league - - - Hg 


Speech of Rev. W. Dealtry 

Charles Grant, jr. Esq. 

Rev. W. Dealtry 

■ Charles Grant, jr. Esq. 


CONTENTS. ix 

S/ieeches on Infidelity, 

page. 


Concise history of French infidelity, by Dr. Dwight 119 
Brief account of Illuminism, by Dr. Dwight ° 121 

The punishment of an Infidel nation, by R. Hall 12.3 
The folly of infidelity by l)r. Dwight - - 125 

Christianity contrasted with infidelity, by R. Iiall 127 
Influence of infidelity on morals, by R. Hall 130 

State of France, by Obeirne - 1S3 

Sfieeches on Education, 

Advantages of knowledge, by R. Hall - - 136 

Objections to the education of the poor answered by 

It. Hall 138 

Evils of ignorance, by R. Hall - - 139 

Sfieeches on the Slave Trade, 

* 

Speech ofW Wilberforce, Esq. - - 141 

Mr. Pitt - - - - - 144 

Mr. Fox ----- 151 


Sfieeches on various occasions. 


On the first settlers of New-England, by J. Q. 

Adams, Esq. - - - 159 

Religion a security against national calamities, by R. 

Hall - 161 

Duty of visiting the poor, by R. ITall - - 162 

On the danger of neglecting the poor, by It. Hall 164 
On profane swearing, - - do. 166 

The diguitv and importance of the ministerial office, 

by H. Hall ... - 167 

Boldness of reproof, by Calvin - - 169 

On intemperance, by Dr. Appleton - - 171 

Symptoms of national degeneracy, by R. Hall 175 

Humility and dignity of the Christian, by R. Hall 180 
Motives to secure the blessings of gospel, by Dr. 

Dwight ..... 183 

The surprise of death, by Masillon - - 186 

The uncertainty of life, do. - - 188 

A 5 


X 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE. 

The state of the Jews, by J. W. Cunningham 191 

Vanity of worldly good, by Dr. Dwight - - 197 

On duelling, by Dr. Mason ... 200 

Extract from Chrysostom, on F.utropius’ disgrace 203 
Utility of Tracts .... 205 

Character of Richard Reynolds, by Mr. Thorpe 208 

Character of Mrs. Graham, by Dr. Masou 212 


Narrative and Biographical Pieces. 


Abdallah and Sabat, by Dr. Buchanan - - 221 

Fatal presumption .... 223 

Skenandoh, the Oneida chief - - 226 

Altamont, by Dr. Young ... 229 

Charles Vlh, emperor of Germany - - 232 

Boerhaave ... - 234 

Character of Gen. Hamilton, by Dr. Nott 237 


Poetry . 


The pulpit, by Cowper ... 240 

Verses, by do - 242 

Love of the world reproved by Cowper 244 

The Rose do 246 

The Negro’s complaint do - ibid. 

The Nightingale and Glow-Worm do - 248 

Mutual forbearance do - 250 

The man perishing in the snow storm by Thomson 252 
The two Gardeners, Miss More - - 255 

Gaiety, by Cowper ... 256 

To the memory of Joseph Browne - - 292 

The Snow Drop, by Montgomery - . 294 

Dialogues. 

True and False Philanthropy, by Miss More 258 

On the education of daughters do - 263 

On carrying religion into common business do 270 

Daniel in the Lion’s den do 275 

Dionysius, Pythias, and Damon, by Fenelon 280 

The children who would be their own masters, by 
Berquin .... 284 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION, 


ABRIDGED FROM WALKER. 


The grand aim of the reader, or speaker, 
should be to express the sense of a composition, so 
as to be understood, and, at the same time, give 
it all the force, beauty and variety, of which it is 
susceptible. 

In order to attain this, it becomes necessary 
for the student to make himself acquainted with 
the doctrine of punctuation. Punctuation may be 
considered, first, with regard to the sense simply ; 
secondly, with regard, not only to the sense, but 
to variety and beauty, force and harmony. The 
former may be styled grammatical punctuation, 
the latter, rhetorical. 

PRACTICAL SYSTEM OF GRAMMATICAL PUNC- 
TUATION. 

RULE 1. 

A simple sentence, that is, a sentence having 
but one subject, or nominative, and one finite 
verb, admits of no pause ; as, “ True politeness 
has its seat in the heart.” 


12 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


Excefi. An adjunct, by which is meant an im- 
perfect phrase, or part of a sentence, which makes 
no sense of itself, but serves to modify the mean- 
ing ot the subject' or verb, standing out of its nat- 
ural order, may be followed by *a comma, and 
sometimes also preceded by it ; as, “ But, even 
on that occasion, you ought not to rejoice.” “ l n 
the moments of eager contention, every thine- is 
magnified.” & 


RULE 2. 


In compound sentences, make as many distinc- 
tions by commas, as there are simple sentences 
contained in them ; as, “ My hopes, fears, joys, 
pains, all centre in you,” J 3 

Obs. 1 When several adjuncts affect the 
subject oi the verb ; as, “ A good, wise, learned 
man is an ornament,” See. ; or when several ad- 
verbs, or adverbial circumstances affect the verb * 
as, “He behaved himself modestly, prudenlv" 
virtuously,” it is to be understood, th^there " £ 
actually so many simple sentences implied as 
there are adjuncts, or adverbial circumstances’. 

Ods. 2. Many sentences, seemingly simple are 
nevertheless of the compound kind. Such’ are 
those sentences, which contain what is called the 
ablative absolute; nouns, in apposition: also 
nouns independent, where an address is made 

06 s. o. Some sentences generally supposed to 
be compound, are, in fact, simple ; as « The 
imagination and the judgment do not always 
agree. In this case the words, the i m a S ina%>„ 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


li 


and The judgment , form but one subject of a 
simple sentence. 


EXCEPTIONS TO RULE 2. 

1. When sentences are connected by the com- 
pound pronoun what, the comma is omitted ; as, 
“ This is what I wanted.” “ He does what he 
pleases,” &c. 

2. The comma is sometimes omitted in short 
comparative sentences; as, “What is sweeter 
than honey V* 

3. When one sentence stands as the object of 
the verb of another sentence, the comma may be 
omitted ; as, “ I knew he was present.” 

4. When the relative pronoun is understood, 
as, “ Improve well the advantages you possess.** 

5. Subjects, or adjuncts, united by a conjunc- 
tion, omit the comma ; as, “ A man never be- 
comes learned without studying constantly and 
methodically.” “ My hopes and fears, joys and 
Sorrows, all centre in you.” 


RULE 3. 


When a sentence can be divided into two or 
more members, which members are again divis- 
ible into members more simple, the former are to 
be separated by a semicolon. 

Exam. “ Rut as this passion for admiration, when it 
Works according to reason, improves the beautiful part ot 


12 ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 

our species in every thing, that is laudable ; so nothing is 
more destructive to them, when it is governed by vanity 
and folly.” 

RULE 4. 

When a sentence is so far perfectly finished, as 
not to be connected in construction with the fol- 
lowing sentence, it is marked with a period ; as, 
“ Quench not the spirit.” “ Fear God/* 

RULE 5. 

When surprise, or wonder, is expressed, a note 
of admiration is to be used ; when a question is 
asked, a note of interrogation ; as, “ How won- 
derful the change !” “Is this the man, who made 
the nations tremble ?” 

PRACTICAL SYSTEM OF RHETORICAL PUNCTUA- 
TION. 

Complex sentences may be divided into two 
classes ; first, periods ; second, loose sentences. 

1. A period is an assemblage of such words, 
or members, as do not form sense, independent 
on each other ; or, if they do, the former modify 
the latter, or inversely. 

It is of two kinds ; the direct period, where the 
former words and members depend for sense on 
the latter. 

Example. “ As we cannot discern the shadow, movin 
along the dial-plate, so the advances we make in learnin 
are only perceived by the distance gone over.” 


btj bt! 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


13 


The inverted period, where the first partj 
though it forms sense without the latter, is nev- 
ertheless modified by it ; as, “ There are sev- 
eral arts, which all men are in some measure 
masters of, without being at the pains of learn- 
ing them.” 

2. A loose sentence has its first member form- 
ing sense, without being modified by the latter ; 
as, 4 Persons of good taste expect to be pleased 
at the same time they are informed ; and think 
that the best sense always deserves the bestlan- 
guage’’ In which example, we find the latter 
member adding something to the former, but 
not modifying or altering it. 

There are three principle pauses ; namely, 
the smaller pause, answering to the comma ; 
the greater pause, answering to the semicolon 
and colon ; and the greatest pause, answering 
to the period. The length of these pauses va- 
ries with the length of a sentence, or the length 
of its members. 

RULE 1. 

Every direct period consists of two principal 
constructive parts, between which parts, the 
greater pause must be inserted ; thus, 

Example. As we cannot discern the shadow mov- 
ing along the dial-plate, so the advances we make in knowl- 
edge are only perceivable by the distance gone over.” 

RULE 2. 

Every inverted period consists of two princi- 
pal constructive parts, between which parts, the 
greater pause must be inserted ; these parts di- 
vide at that point, where the latter part of the 
sentence begins to modify the former j as, 


14 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


Ex. tc Every one that speaks and reasons is a gramma- 
rian, and a logician, though he may be utterly unacquaint- 
ed with the rules of grammar, or logick, as delivered in 
books and systems.” 

RULE 3. 

Every loose sentence must consist of a period, 
either direct or inverted, and an additional mem- 
ber which does not modify it ; and ; consequent- 
ly, this species of sentence requires a pause 
between the principal constructive parts of the 
period and between the period and the addition- 
al member. 

Ex. i'ersons of good taste expect to he pleased, at the 
same time they are informed ; and think that the best 
sense always deserves the best language. 

Having thus given an idea of the principal 
pause in a sentence, it Mill be necessary to say 
something of the subordinate pauses, which may 
all be comprehended under what is called the 
short pause. 

And here I would observe, that by the long 
pause, is not meant a pause of any determinate 
length, but the longest pause in the sentence. 
And it may pass lor a good general rule, that 
the principal pause is longer, or shorter, accord- 
ing to the simplicity, or complexity of the sen- 
tence. 

After a sentence is divided into its principal 
parts by the long pause, these parts, if complex, 
are again divisible into subordinate parts by a 
short pause ; and these, if necessary, are again 
divisible into more subordinate parts by a still 
shorter pause, till at last we arrive at those 
words, which admit no pause ; as the article 
and substantive ; the substantive and adjective 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


15 


in their natural order, or, if unattended by ad- 
juncts, in any order ; and the prepositions and 
the words they govern. These words are not 
divisible except for the sake of emphasis. 

Every other combination of words seems di- 
visible, if occasion require. Ai d here it may be 
observed that all the words of a sentence may 
be distinguished into those that modify, and 
those that are modified. The words that are 
modified, are the nominative and the verb it 
governs Every other word may be said to be 
a modifier of these words. 

The modifying words are also themselves 
modified by other words; and thus the whole 
sentence may be divided into superior and su- 
bordinate classes of words; each class being 
composed of words more united among them- 
selves, than the several classes are with each 
other. 

Fx. “ The members of that society have suffered much 
from the intolerance of their persecutors ” 

The noun members , and the verb have suffer- 
ed, with their several adjuncts, form the two 
principal classes of words in this sentence ; and 
between these classes a pause is more readily 
admitted, than between any other words. If the 
latter class may be thought too long to be pro- 
nounced with. out a pause, we may more easily 
place one at much , than between any other 
words ; because, though have suffered is modi- 
fied by every one of the succeeding words, taken 
.all together, yet it is more immediately modified 


16 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


by much., as this portion is also modified by 
from the intolerance of their persecutors. 

If another pause were necessary, it would be 
more easily admitted at intolerance , than between 
any other words, because that, together with the 
preceding words, is modified by the adjunct, of 
their persecutors. 

In these observations, however, it must be 
carefully understood, that this multiplicity of 
shorter pauses is not recommended as necessa- 
ry or proper, but only as possible, and to be ad- 
mitted occasionally. To draw the line as much 
as possible between what is necessary and un- 
necessary, we shall endeavor to bring together 
such particular cases as demand the short pause, 
and those where it cannot be omitted without 
hurting either the sense or the delivery. 

RULE 4. 

When a nominative consists of more than one 
word, it is necessary to pause after it. 

RULE 5. 

Whatever member intervenes between the 
nominative case and the verb, or between the 
verb and the accusative case, is of the nature of 
a parenthesis, and must be separated from both 
by a short pause ; as, “ I, that speak in right- 
eousness, am mighty to save.” 41 A man of fine 
taste in writing will discern, after the same 
manner, beauties and imperfections, to which 
others are insensible. ” 


elements of elocution- 


17 


RULE 6. 

When two verbs come together, and the lat- 
ter is in the infinitive mode, if any words come 
between, they must be separated from the latter 
verb by a pause ; as, “ It is impossible for a 
jealous man, to be thoroughly cured of his sus- 
picions.” 

RULE 7. 

If there are several subjects belonging in the 
same manner to one verb, or several verbs, be- 
longing in the same manner to one subject, the 
subjects and verbs are still to be accounted equal 
in number ; for every verb must have its sub- 
ject- and every subject its verb ; and every one 
of the subjects, or verbs, should have its point 
of distinction and a short pause ; as, “ Riches, 
pleasure, and health, become evils to those, who 
do not know how to use them.” 

RULE 8. 

If there are several adjectives belonging in 
the same manner to one substantive, or several 
substantives belonging in the same manner to 
one adjective, the adjective and substantives are 
still to be accounted equal in number ; for 
every substantive must have its adjective, and 
every adjective its substantive ; and every ad- 
jective coming after its substantive, and every 
adjective coming before the substantive, except 
the last, must be separated by a short pause. 

Ex. A polite, an active, and a supple behavior, is nec- 
essary to succeed in life. 


18 


elements of elocution. 


RULE 9. 

If there are several adverbs belonging in the 
same manner to one verb, or several verbs be- 
longing in the same manner to one adverb, the 
verbs and adverbs are still to be accounted equal 
in number ; and if the adverbs come after the 
verb, they are each of them to be separated by 
a pause ; but if the adverbs come before the 
verb, a pause must separate each of them from 
the verb but the last. 

Ex To love, wisely, rationally, and prudently, is, in 
the opinion of lovers, not to love at all. 

Wisely, rationally, and prudently to love, is, in the 
opinion of lovers, not to love at all. 

RULE 10. 

Words, put into the case absolute, must be 
separated from the rest by a short pause ; as, 
“ If a man borrow aught of his neighbor, and it 
be hurt or die, the owner thereof not being 
with it, he shall surely make it good.” 

RULE 11. 

Nouns in apposition have a short pause be- 
tween them, either if both these nouns consist 
Of many terms, or the latter only ; as, Paul, 
the apostle of the Gentiles.” 

RULE 12. 

Relative pronouns in the nominative require 
a short pause before them : as, “ Saints, that 
taught, and led the way to heaven. 9 ’ 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


19 


RULE 13. 

When that is used as a casual conjunction, it 
ought always to be preceded by a short pause ; as, 
“ Forgive me, that I thus your patience wrong.’* 

RULE 14. 

Prepositions and conjunctions are more united 
with the words they precede, than with those they 
follow ; and, consequently, if it be necessary to 
pause, they ought to be classed with the suceeding 
words ; as, “A violent passion, for universal ad- 
miration, produces the most ridiculous circum- 
stances, in the general behaviour of women, of 
the most excellent understandings.” 

RULE 15. 

Contrasted words, or parts in a sentence in op- 
position to each other, require a short pause after 
them ; as, “ The pleasures of the imagination, 
taken in their full extent, are not so gross as those 
of sense, nor so refined as those of the understand- 
ing.” After gross and refined, ought to be a short 
pause. 


PRACTICAL SYSTEM OF THE INFLEXIONS OF 
THE VOICE. 

By inflexion of the voice is to be understood 
that upward or downward slide, which the voice 
makes, when the pronunciation of a word is finish- 
ing ; and which maybe called the rising and fall- 
ing inflexion. 


20 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


For example; in pronouncing the following 
sentence : — Does Caesar deserve fame or blame ? 
fame will have the rising, and blame the falling in- 
flexion. This distinction will be still clearer, if 
the reader will let the word fame drawl off the 
tongue for some time before the sound finishes ; 
he will find it slide upwards, and end in a rising 
tone; if he makes the same experiment on the 
word blame , he will find the sound slide down- 
wards, and end in a falling tone. 

Every pause, of whatever kind, must neces- 
sarily adopt one of these two inflexions, or con- 
tinue in a monotone. 

To give a clearer idea of these inflexions, we 
have inserted in the Plate, diagrams with the dif- 
ferent examples. 

Explanation of Plate. 

No. 1. Did he do it voluntarily or involuntarily ? 

In the pronunciation of these words, every sylla- 
ble in the word voluntarily rises except the first, 
vol ; and every syllable in the word involuntarily 
falls but the first, in. A slow drawling pronuncia- 
tion of these words will evidently show that this is 
the case. These different slides of the voice are 
named from the direction they take in the conclu- 
sion of a word, as that is the most apparent, es- 
pecially if there are several syllables after the ac- 
cented syllable, or if the word be but of one sylla- 
ble, and terminate in a vowel or a liquid : for, in 
this case, the sound lasts some time after the word 
is articulated. Thus voluntarily may be said to 
have the rising, and involuntarily the falling inflex- 
ion ; and we must carefully guard against mis- 
taking the low tone at the beginning of the rising 





















/ 



/ 


i 


22 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


inflexion for the falling inflexion, and the high 
tone at the beginning of the falling inflexion, for 
the rising inflexion, as they are not denominated 
rising or falling from the high or low tone in 
which they are pronounced, but, from the upward 
or downward slide in which they terminate, 
whether pronounced in a high or a low key. 

In this scheme every word, whether accented 
or not, is arranged under that line of sound to 
which it belongs : though the unaccented words 
are generally pronounced so feebly, as to render 
it often very difficult to say whether they belong 
to the rising or falling inflexion ; but when the 
accented words have their proper inflexion, the 
subordinate words can scarcely be in an improper 
one. The accented words, therefore, are those 
only which we need at present attend to. 

The sentence No. I. and any other sentence con- 
structed in exactly the same manner, must neces- 
sarily adopt the rising inflexion on the first mem- 
ber, and the falling on the last. 

The sentence No. II. necessarily adopts a con- 
trary order ; that is, the falling inflexion on ■vol- 
untarily^ and the rising on involuntarily. 

No. III. and IV. shew that the same words take 
different inflexions in correspondence with the 
sense and structure of the sentence ; for as the 
word constitution , in No. IV. only ends a member 
of the sentence, and leaves the sense unfinished, 
it necessarily adopts the suspending or rising in- 
flexion ; and harmony requires that the preced- 
ing words should be so arranged, as to give every 
one of the words an inflexion, different from 
what it has in No. III. where constitution ends 
the sentence. 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


23 


But when we say a word is to have the rising 
inflexion, it is not meant that this word is to be 
pronounced in a higher tone than other words, 
but that the latter part of the word is to have a 
higher tone than the former part ; the same may 
be observed of the falling inflexion. 

We now proceed to apply the doctrine of in- 
flexion to that of punctuation. 

But before any rules for applying the inflexions 
are laid down, we would remark that the falling 
inflexion is divisible into two kinds of very dif- 
ferent-and even opposite import. The falling in- 
flexion without a fall of the voice, or, in other 
words, that inflexion of voice which consists of 
a downward slide, in a high and forcible tone, 
may either be applied to that part of a sentence 
where a portion of sense is formed, as at the word 
unjustly, in the following sentence : “ 1 know 
not whether he acted justly or unju£;ly ; but he 
acted contrary to law or to that part w here no 
sense is formed, as at the word temfierance, Plate 
No. IV. ; but when this downward slide is pro- 
nounced in a lower and less forcible tone than the 
preceding w'ords, it indicates not only that the 
sense, but the sentence, is concluded. 

The rising inflexion is denoted by the acute 
accent, thus ('). 

The falling inflexion is denoted by the grave 
accent, thus ('). 

COMPACT SENTENCE. DIRECT PERIOD. 

RULE I. 

Every direct period, so constructed as to have 
its two principal constructive parts connected by 
•s s 3 


24 


elements of elocution. 


correspondent conjunctions, requires the long 
pause with the rising inflexion at the end of the 
first principal constructive member. 

Ex. As we cannot discern the shadow moving along 
the dial plate, so the advances we make in knowledge are 
only perceivable by the distance gone over. 

RULE 2. 

Every direct period, consisting of two principal 
constructive parts, and having only the first part 
commence with a conjunction, requires the rising 
inflexion and long pause at the end of this part. 

Ex. As in my speculations I have endeavoured to ex- 
tinguish passion and prejudice, I am still desirous of 
doing some good in this particular. 

RULE 3. 

Direct periods, which commence with particles 
of the present and past tense, consist of two parts ; 
between which must be inserted the long pause 
and rising inflexion. 

Ex Having already shown how the fancy is affected hy 
the works of nature, and afterwards considered in general 
both the works of nature and of art, how they mutually 
assist and complete each other, in forming such scenes and 
prospects as are most apt to delight the mind of the be- 
holder ; 1 shall in this paper throw together some reflec- 
tions on that particular art, which has a more immediate 
tendency than any other, to produce those primary pleas- 
ures of the imagination, which have hitherto been the 
subject of this discourse. 

INVERTED PERIOD. 

RULE. 

Every period, where the first part forms per- 
fect sense by itself, but is modified or determined 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


25 


in its signification by the latter, has the rising in- 
flexion and long pause between these parts as in 
the direct period. 

Ex. Gratian very often recommends the fine taste, as 
the utmost perfection of an accomplished man. 

LOOSE SENTENCE. 

RULE. 

Every member of a sentence forming consist- 
ent sense, and followed by two other members 
which do not modify or restrain its signification, 
admits of the falling inflexion. 

Ex. For this reason, there is nothing more enlivens a 
prospect than rivers, jetteaus, and falls of wkter. where 
the scene is perpetually shifting and entertaining the sight 
every moment with something that is new. 


ANTITHETICK MEMBER. 

When sentences have two parts corresponding 
with each other, so as to form an antithesis, the 
first part must always terminate with the rising 
inflexion. 

Ex. I imagined that I was admitted into a long spacious 
gallery, which had one side covered with pieces, of all the 
famous painters who are now living; and the other with 
the greatest masters who are dead. 

The pleasures of the imagination are not so gross as 
those of sense, nor so refined as those of the understand- 
ing. 


PENULTIMATE MEMBER. 

As the last member must almost always be 
terminated by the falling inflexion at the period, 
a falling inflexion, immediately preceding it, in 
the penultimate member, would be too sudden a 


26 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


repetition of nearly similar sounds ; hence arises 
the propriety of the following 

RULE. 

Every member of a sentence, immediately pre- 
ceding the last, requires the rising inflexion. 

Ex. The florist, the planter, the gardener, the husband- 
man, when they are accomplishments to the man of for- 
tune, are great reliefs to a country life, and many ways 
useful to those who are possessed of them. 

Exception. Emphasis, which controls every 
other rule in reading, forms an exception to this ; 
which is, that where an emphatick word is in the 
first member of a sentence, and the last has no 
emphatical word, this penultimate member then 
terminates with the falling inflexion. 

Ex. I must therefore desire the reader to remember, 
that by the pleasures of the imagination, 1 meant only 
such pleasures as arise originally from sight; and that £ 
divide these pleasures into two kinds. 

SERIES. 

Variety is necessary in the delivery of almost 
every separate member of a sentence, and much 
more so in a series of members. 

Nothing, however, can be more various than 
the pronunciation of a series ; almost every dif- 
ferent number of particulars requires a different 
method of varying them : and even those of pre- 
cisely the same number of particulars admit of 
a different mode of pronunciation, as the series is 
either commencing or concluding, simple or com- 
pound ; single or double, or treble, &c. 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


29 


RULE 5. 

When four members of a sentence, consisting 
of single words, . succeed each other in a com- 
mencing series, and are the only series in the 
sentence, they may be divided into two equal por- 
tions : the first member of the first portion must 
be pronounced with the rising, and the second 
with the falling inflexion, as in Rule 2 ; and the 
two members of the last portion exactly the re- 
verse, that is, according to Rule 1. 

Ex. Metals, minerals, plants, and meteors, contain a 
thousand curious properties, which are as engaging to the 
fancy as to the reason. 

RULE 6. 

When four members of a sentence, consisting 
of single words, succeed each other in a conclud- 
ing series, a pause may, as in the former rule, 
divide them into two equal portions ; but they 
are to be pronounced with exactly contrary in- 
flexions ; that is, the two first must be pronounced 
according to Rule 1, and the two last according 
io Rule 2. 

Ex. There is something very engaging to the fancy as 
well as to our reason, in the treatise of m&tals, minerals, 
plants, and meteors. 

These rules might be carried to a much 
greater length ; but too nice an attention to them, 
in a long series, might not only be very difficult, 
but give an air of stiffness to the pronunciation, 
which would not be compensated by the proprie- 
ty. It may be necessary, however, to observe, 
that in a long enumeration of particulars, it would 


30 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


not be improper to divide them into portions of 
three ; and if we are not reading extempore, as 
it may be called, this division of a series into por- 
tions of three ought to commence from the end 
of the series ; that if it is a commencing, we may 
pronounce the last portion as in Rule 3 ; and if it 
is a concluding series, we may pronounce the 
last portion according to the observation annexed 
to Rule 4. 

COMPOUND SERIES. GENERAL RULE. 

Where the compound series commences, the 
falling inflexion takes place on every member 
but the last ; and when the series concludes, it 
may take place on every member except the last 
but one. It must be carefully noted, likewise, 
that the second member ought to be pronounced 
a little higher, and more forcibly than the first, the 
third than the second, and so on ; for which pur- 
pose, if the members are numerous, it is evidently 
necessary to pronounce the first member in so low 
a tone as to admit of rising gradually on the same 
inflexion to the last. 

EXAMPLE OF A COMMENCING COMPOUND SERIES 
OF SIX MEMBERS. 

I would fain ask one of those bigoted infidels, supposing 
all the great points of atheism, as the casual or eternal 
formation of the world, the materiality of a thinking sub- 
stance, the mortality of the s&uJ, the fortuitous organiza- 
tion of the body, the motion's and gravitation of matter, 
with the like particulars, were laid together, and formed 
into a kind of creed, according to the opinions of the most 
celebrated atheists : I say, supposing such a creed as this 
were formed, and imposed upon any one people in the 
world, whether it would not require an infinitely greater 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


31 


measure of faith than any set of articles which they so 
violently oppose. 

EXAMPLE OF THE CONCLUDING COMPOUND 
SE HIES. 

For if we interpret the Spectator’s words in their lit- 
eral meaning, we must suppose that women of the first 
quality used to pass away whole mornings at a puppet- 
show : that they attested their principles by patches; that 
an audience would sit out an evening to hear a dramatick 
performance, written in a language which they did not 
understand: that chairs and flower pots were introduced 
as actors on the British stage : that a promiscuous assem- 
bly of men and women were allowed to meet at midnight 
in masks within the verge of the cdurt, with many im- 
probabilities of the like nature. 


SERIES OF SER1ESES. PRELIMINARY OBSERVATION- 

When the members of a series, either from 
their similitude or contrariety to each other, fall 
into pairs or triplets ; these pairs or triplets, con- 
sidered as whole members, are pronounced ac- 
cording to the rules respecting* those members of 
a series that consist of more than a single word ; 
but the parts of which these members are com- 
posed, if consisting of single words, are pro- 
nounced according to those rules which relate to 
those members that consist of single words, as 
far as their subordination to the whole series of 
members will permit. 

Ex. For l am persuaded, that neither death, nor life: 
nor Angels, nor principalities, nor powers? nor things 
present, nor things to come : nor height, nor depth : nor 
any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the 
love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. 

Upon the first view of this passage, we find it 
naturally falls into certain distinct portions of sim* 


32 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION, 


ilar or opposite words. These portions seem to 
be five in number ; the first containing two mem- 
bers, death , life ; the second containing three 
members, angels, principalities , powers ; the 
third two, things present , things to come ; the 
fourth two, height , depth ; the fifth one, any 
other creature : these members, if pronounced at 
random, and without relation to that order iq 
which they are placed by the sacred writer, lose 
half their beauty and effect ; but if each member 
is pronounced with an inflexion of voice that 
corresponds to its situation in the sentence, the 
whole series becomes the most striking and beau- 
tiful climax imaginable. 

From the examples which have been adduced, 
we have seen in how many instances the force, 
variety and harmony of a sentence have been im- 
proved by a proper use of the falling inflexion. 
The series in particular is indebted to this inflex- 
ion for its greatest force and beauty. But it is 
necessary to observe, that this inflexion is not 
equally adapted to the pronunciation of every 
series : where force, precision, or distinction is 
necessary, this inflexion very happily expresses 
the sense of the sentence, and forms an agreea- 
ble climax of sound to the ear ; but where the 
sense of the sentence does not require this force, 
precision, or distinction, (and it seldom docs re- 
quire it,) where the sentence commences with a 
conditional suppositive conjunction, or where the 
language is plaintive and poetical, the falling in- 
flexion seems less suitable than the rising. 

Ex. When the gay and smiling aspect of things has be* 
gun to leave the passages to a man’s heart thus thought- 
lessly unguarded } when kind and caressing looks of every 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


C* t*> 


oo 


object without, that can flatter his senses, has conspired 
with the enemy within, to betray him and put him off his 
defence : when musick likewise hath lent her aid, and 
tried her power upon the passions ; when the voice of 
singing men, and the voice of singing women, with the 
sound of the viol and the lute, have broke in upon his 
soul, and in some tender notes have touched the secret 
springs of rapture, — that moment let us dissect and look 
into his h£art ; — see how vkin, how w6ak, how empty a 
thing it is ! 


THE FINAL PAUSE OR PERIOD. 

The tone, with which we conclude a sentence, 
must be distinguished as much as possible from 
that member of a sentence, which contains perfect 
sense, and is not necessarily connected with what 
follows. Such a member requires the falling in- 
flexion, but in a higher tone than the preceding 
words ; as if we had finished only a part of what 
we had to 3ay, while the period requires the fall- 
ing inflexion in a lower tone as if we had nothing 
more to add. 

But this final tone does not only lower the last 
word ; it has the same influence on those which 
more immediately precede the last ; so that the 
cadence is prepared by a gradual fall upon the 
concluding words ; every word in the latter part 
of a Sentence sliding gently lower till the voice 
drops upon the last. 

Ex. As the word taste arises very often in conversation, 
I shall endeavour to give some account of it, and to lay 
down rules how we may know whether we are possessed 
of it, and how we may acquire that fine taste in writing 
which is so much talked of among the polite wbrld. 

We find perfect sense formed at the words ac- 
count of it , and possessed of it ; but as they do 
not conclude the sentence, these words, if they 


34 - 


elements OF ELOCUTION. 


adopt the falling inflexion, must be pronounced in ] 
a higher tone than the rest ; while in the last j 
member, not only the word world is pronounced 
lower than the rest, but the whole member falls i 
gradually into the cadence, which is so much talked 
of among the fiolite world. And here it will be ab- 
solutely necessary to observe, that though the 
period generally requires the falling inflexion, 
every period does not necessarily adopt this in- 
flexion in the same tone of voice ; if sentences 
are intimately connected in sense, though the 
grammatical structure of each may be independent 
on the other, they may not improperly be consid- 
ered as so many small sentences making one large 
one, and thus requiring a pronunciation corres- 
pondent to their logical dependence on each 
other : hence it may be laid down as a general 
rule, that a series of periods in regular succession 
arc to be pronounced as every other series : that 
is, if they follow each other regularly as parts of 
the same observation, they are to be pronounced 
as parts, and not as wholes. 

Ex. Thus, although the -whole of life is allowed by 
everyone to be short, the several divisions of it appear 
long and tedious We are for lengthening our span in 
general, but would fain contract the parts of which it is 
composed. The usurer would be very well satisfied to 
have all the time annihilated, that lies between the pres- 
ent moment and next quarter-day. The politician would 
be contented to lose three years in his life, could he place 
things in the posture, which he fancies they will stand in, 
after such a revolution of time The lover would be glad 
to strike out of his existence all the moments that are to 
pass aw ay before the happy meeting. Thus as fast as our 
time runs, we should be very glad in most part of our 
lives, that it ran much faster than it does. 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


Though here are no less than six periods in 
this passage, and every one of them requires the 
falling inflexion, yet every one of them ought to 
be pronounced in a somewhat different pitch of 
' voice from the other ; and for this purpose they 
may be considered as a concluding series of com- 
pound members ; the last period of which must 
conclude with a lower tone of voice than the pre- 
ceding, that there may be a gradation. 

Obser . When a sentence concludes an anti- 
thesis, the first branch of which requires the strong 
emphasis, and therefore demands the falling in- 
flexion ; the second branch requires the weak 
emphasis, and rising inflexion, although at the 
end of a sentence. 

Ex. If we have no regard for our own character, 'we 
ought to have some regard for the character of dthers. 

If content cannot remdve the disquietudes of mankind, 
it will at least alleviate them. 

I would have your papers consist also of all things which 
may be necessary or useful to any part of society ; and 
the mechanic arts should have their place as well as the 
liberal. 

INTERROGATION. 

All questions may be divided into two classes. 
First ; such as are formed by the interrogative 
pronouns or adverbs ; second, such are formed 
by an inversion of the common arrangement of 
the words. The first require at the end the fall- 
ing inflexion ; the second, with some few excep- 
tions, the rising. 

Exceji . 1. When interrogative sentences, con- 
nected by the disjunctive or, succeed each other, 
the first ends with the rising, and the rest with 
the failing inflexion. 


36 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


Ex. Shall we in your person cr6wn the author of the 
publiek calamities, or shall we destroy him ? 

Is the goodness, or wisdom of the divine Being, more 
manifested in this his proceeding ? 

But should these credulous infidels after all be in the 
right, and this pretended revelation be all a fable, from 
believing it what hkrm could ensue ? Would it render 
princes more tyrannical, or subjects more ungovernable ?- 
The rich more insolent, or the poor more disorderly ? — 
Would it make worse parents or children ; husbands or 
wives ; masters or servants : friends or neighbours ; or 
would it not make men more virtuous, and, consequently, 
more happy in every situation ? 

Excefi. 2. Interrogative sentences without 
interrogative words, when consisting of a variety 
of members necessarily depending on each 
other for sense, admit of every tone, pause, and 
inflexion of voice, common to other sentences, 
provided the last member, on which the whole 
question depends, has that peculiar elevation and 
inflexion of voice which distinguishes this species 
of interrogation. 

Ex. But can we believe a thinking being, that is in a 
perpetual progress of impr6vements, and travelling on 
from perfection to perfection, after having just looked 
abroad into the works of its Creator, and made a few dis- 
coveries of his infinite goodness, wisdom, and power, must 
perish at her first setting dut, and in the very beginning 
of her inquiries ? 

In reading this passage we shall find, that plac- 
ing the falling inflexion without dropping the 
voice on the words improvements and Creator , will 
not only prevent the monotony which is apt to 
arise from too long a suspension of the voice, but 
enforce the sense by enumerating, as it were, the 
several particulars of which the question consists. 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


37 


Observation 1. When questions are succeeded 
by answers, it will be necessary to raise the voice 
in the rising inflexion on the question, and after a 
considerable pause to pronounce the answer in a 
lower tone of voice, that they may be the better 
distinguished from each other. 

Ex. My departure is objected to me, which charge I 
cannot answer without commending myself. For what 
roust I sky ? That 1 fled from a consciousness of guilt ? But 
what is charged upon me as a crime, was so far from being 
a fault, that it is the most glorious action since the mem- 
ory of matt. That 1 feared being called to an account by 
the people ? That was never tklkedof ; and if it had been 
done, 1 should have come off with double hdnour. That I 
wanted the support ot good and honest m6n That is fklse. 
That I was afraid of death ? That is cklumny. I must, 
therefore, say what I would not, unless compelled to it, 
that I withdrew to preserve the city. 

Obs. 2. As questions of this kind, which de- 
mand the rising inflexion at the end, especially 
when they are drawn out to any length, are apt to 
carry the voice into a higher key than is either 
suitable or pleasant, too much care cannot be 
taken to keep the voice down, when we are pro- 
nouncing the former parts of a long question, and 
the commencing questions of a long succession of 
questions ; for as the characleristick pronuncia- 
tion of these questions is, to end with the rising 
inflexion, provided we do but terminate with this, 
the voice may creep on in a low and almost same- 
ness of tone till the end ; and then if the voice is 
not agreeable in a high key, which is the case 
with the generality of voices, the last word of the 
whole may be pronounced with the rising inflex- 
ion, in nearly the same low key in which the 
voice commences. 


c 


38 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


EXCLAMATION. 

The note of exclamation is appropriated by 
grammarians to indicate, that some passion or 
emotion is contained in the words to which it is 
annexed. The inflexion^ it requires are exactly 
the same as the rest of the points ; that is, if the 
exclamation point is placed after a member that 
would have the rising inflexion in another sen- 
tence, it ought to have the rising in this ; if after 
a member that would have the falling inflexion, 
the exclamation ought to have the falling inflex- 
ion likewise. 


PARENTHESIS. 

RULE. 

A parenthesis must be pronounced in a lower 
tone of voice, and conclude with the same pause 
and inflexion which terminate the member that 
immediately precedes it. 

Ex. Notwithstanding all this care of Cicero, history in- 
forms us, that Marcus proved a mere blockhead ; and that 
nature ’(who it seems was even with the son for her pro- 
digality to the father) rendered him incapable of improv- 
ing, by all the rules of Eloquence, and the precepts of 
phil6sophy, his own endeavours, and the most refined 
conversation in A'thens. 

Obstr. The parenthesis, terminating with an 
emphatical word, which requires the falling inflex- 
ion, sometimes forms an exception to this rule. 

Ex. Care must be taken that it b& not (as was often 
done hy our ancestors through the smallness of the treas- 
ury and continuance of the w&rs) necessary to raise taxes: 
and in order to prevent this, provision should be made 
against it long beforehand : but if the necessity of this ser- 
vice should happen to any state (which I had rather sup- 
pose ol another than our own, nor am I now discoursing 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


39 


of our own, but of every state in general) methods must 
be used to convince all persons (if they would be secure) 
that they ought to submit to necessity. 

ACCENT. 

Rule. When two words, which are opposed 
to each other in sense, have a sameness in part of 
their formation, emphasis frequently requires a 
transposition of the accent. 

Ex. Neither justice nor injustice have any thing to do 
with the present question. 

In this species of composition, plausibility is much more 
essential than probability. 

EMPHASIS. 

Emphasis may be divided into two kinds, em- 
phasis of force, and emphasis of sense. 

Emphasis of force is that stress of voice we lay 
on almost every significant word. It is variable, 
according to the conception and taste of the speak- 
er, and cannot be reduced to any certain rule. 

Emphasis of sense is that stress we lay on one 
or two particular words, which distinguishes them 
from all the rest in the sentence. This is deter- 
mined by the sense of the author, and is always 
fixed and invariable. To this kind of emphasis, 
we wish to have the attention oi the reader prin- 
cipally directed. 

The principal circumstance that distinguishes 
fcmphatical words from others, seems to be a mean- 
ing ‘which fioints out y or distinguishes , something 
as distinct or ofifiosite to some other thing. When 
this opposition is expressed in words, it forms an 
antithesis, the opposite parts of which are always 
emphatical. Thus in the following couplet from 
Pope ; 

c 2 


40 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


’Tis hard to say, if greater want of skill 
Appear in writing or in judging ill. 

The words writing and judging are opposed to 
each other, and are therefore the emphatical 
words : where we may likewise observe, that the 
disjunctive or, by which the antithesis is connect- 
ed means, one of the things exclusively of the 
other. 

Wherever the contrariety or opposition is ex- 
pressed, we are at no loss for the emphatical 
words ; the greatest difficulty in reading, lies in 
a discovery of those words which are in opposition 
to something not expressed, but understood ; and 
the best method to find the emphasis in these sen- 
tences, is to take the word we suppose to be em- 
phatical, and try whether it will admit of those 
words being supplied which an emphasis on it 
would suggest : Let us take an example. 

A man of a polite imagination is let into a great many 
pleasures that the vulgar are not capable of receiving : he 
can converse with a picture, and find an agreeable com- 
panion in a statue. 

We shall find but few readers lay any consid- 
erable stress upon the word picture , in this sen- 
tence; but we shall find a stress upon this word 
a considerable embellishment to the thought ; for 
it hints to the mind that a polite imagination does 
not onlyjind pleasure in conversing with those ob- 
jects which give pleasure to all , but with those 
which give pleasure to such only as can converse 
with them ; hero then the emphasis on the word 
picture , is not only an advantage to the thought, 
but in some measure necessary to it. 

But if emphasis does not improve, it always 
vitiates the sense ; and, therefore, should be always 
avoided where the use of it is not evident. 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 41 

From these observations, the following defini- 
tion of emphasis seems naturally to arise : Em- 
phasis, when applied to particular words, is that 
stress we lay on words which are in contradistinc- 
tion to other words either expressed or understood , 
And hence will follow this general rule : Wher- 
ever there is contradistinction in the sense of the 
words, there ought to be emphasis in the pronun- 
ciation of them ; the converse of this being equally 
true, Wherever we place emphasis , we suggest the 
idea of contradistinction, 

THEORY OF EMPHAT1CK INFLEXION. 

It will now be necessary to show that every 
emphatick word, properly so called, is as much 
distinguished by the inflexion it adopts, as by the 
force with which it is pronounced. 

Emphasis is divisible into two kinds, namely, 
into that where the antithesis is expressed, and 
that where it is only implied ; or, in other words, 
into-that emphasis where there are two or more 
emphatick words corresponding to each other ; 
and that where the emphatick word relates to 
some other word, not expressed but understood ; 
an instance of the first is this : 

When a Persian soldier was reviling Alexander the 
Great his officer reprimanded him by saying, Sir, you 
were paid to fight against Alexander, and not to rail at 
him. 9 

Here we find fight and rail are the two em* 
phatick words which correspond to each other, 
and that the positive member, which affirms some- 
thing. adopts the falling inflexion on fight, anti the 
negative member, which excludes something, 
has the rising inflexion on rail, 
c 3 


42 ELEMENTS 0.F ELOCUTION. 

An instance of the latter kind of emphasis is 
this : 

By the faculty of a lively and picturesque imagination, 
a man in a dungeon is capable of entertaining himself 
with scenes and landscapes, more beautiful than any that 
can be found in the whole compass of nature. 

Here we find the word dungeon cmphatical, 
but it has not any correspondent word as in the 
other sentence. If we pronounce this emphatick 
word with the falling inflexion, the correspond- 
ent words which belong to this emphasis may be 
imagined to be nearly these, not merely absent 
from beautiful scenes ; which, if added to the 
word dungeon , we should find perfectly agreeable 
to the sense suggested by the emphasis on that 
word ; if we draw out this latter sentence at 
length, we shall find it consist of the same positive 
and negative parts as the former, and that the 
positive part assumes the falling, and the negative 
the rising inflexion in both. 

Ex. When a Persian soldier was reviling Alexander the 
Great, his officer reprimanded him by saying, ^ir, you were 
paid to fight against Alexander, and not to rail at him. 

By the faculty of a lively and picturesque imagination, 
a man in a dungeon, and not merely absent from beautiful 
scenes, is capable of entertaining himself with scenes and 
landscapes, more beautiful than any that can be found in 
the whole compass of nature. 

Here then we are advanced one step towards a 
knowledge of what inflexion of voice we ought to 
use on one kind of emphasis ; for whenever the 
emphatick word fioints out a particular sense in 
exclusion of some other sense , this emjihatical 
word adopts the falling inf exion : the word fght, 
therefore, in the first, and dungeon in the last ex- 
ample, must necessarily be pronounced with the 
falling inflexion, as they tacitly exclude rail , and 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


43 


mere absence from beautiful scenes , which are in 
contradistinction to them. 

Having thus discovered the specifick import of 
one empiiatick inflexion, it will not be very diffi- 
cult to trace out the other : for as the import of 
these two inflexions may be presumed to be dif- 
ferent, we may, by analogy, be led to conclude, 
that as the emphatic k word which excludes some- 
thing in contradistinction to it, demands the fall- 
ing inflexion, the emphasis with the rising inf ex- 
ion is to be placed on those words , ‘which, though 
in contradistinction to something else do not abso- 
lutely exclude its existence. Let us try this by 
an example. Lothario, in the Fair Penitent, ex- 
pressing his contempt for the opposition of Hora- 
tio, says, 

By the joys 

Which yet my soul has uncontroll’d pursu'd ; 

I would not turn aside from my least pleasure, 

Though all th'y force were arm’d to bar my way. 

The word thy, in this passage, has the emphasis 
with the rising inflexion ; which intimates, that 
however Lothario might be restrained by the 
force of others, Horatio’s force, at least, was too 
insignificant to control him : and as a farther 
proof that this is the sense suggested by the rising 
inflexion on the word thy , if we do but alter the 
inflexion upon this word, by giving it the em- 
phasis with the falling inflexion, we shall find, 
that instead of contempt and sneer, a compliment 
will be paid to Horatio ; for it would imply as 
much as if Lothario had said, I would not turn 
aside from my 'east pleasure , not only though com- 
mon force , but even though thy force gnat as it is, 
c 4 


44 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


were armed to bar my way : and that this cannot 
be the sense of the passage, is evident. 

Here then we seem arrived at the true principle 
of distinction in emphasis. All emphasis has an 
antithesis either expressed or understood ; if the 
emphasis excludes the antithesis , the emphatick 
word has the falling inf exion ; if the emphasis 
does not exclude the antithesis, the emphatick word 
has the rising inflexion. The grand distinction, 
therefore, between the two emphatick inflexions 
is this ; the falling inflexion affirms something in 
the emphasis , and denies what is opposed to it in 
the antithesis, while the emphasis with the rising in- 
flexion affirms something in the emphasis without 
denying what is opposed to it in the antithesis : the 
former, therefore, from its affirming and denying 
absolutely, may be called the strong emphasis ; 
and the latter, from its affirming only and not 
denying, may be called the weak emphasis. 


PRACTICAL SYSTEM OF EMPHASIS. 


Hitherto we have treated chiefly of that em- 
phasis, which may be called single ; that is, ei- 
ther where the two emphatick words in antithesis 
with each other are expressed ; or where but 
one of them is expressed, and the antithesis to it 
is implied or understood. But besides these, 
there are instances where two emphatick words 
are opposed to two others, and sometimes where 
three emphatick words are opposed to three 
others in the same sentence. Let us take a view 
of each of these different kinds of emphasis in its 
order : 


l. 


Exercise and temperance strengthen even an zn- 
dlfferent constitution 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


4 5 



You were paid to fight against Alexander, and 
not to rail at him. 

The pleasures of the imagination are not so gross 
as those of sinse , nor so refined as those of the 
understanding. 


4. 


//£ raised a mortal to the skies. 
She drew an angel down . 


In the first example, we find the emphatick 
word indifferent suggest an antithesis not ex- 
pressed, namely, not a good constitution ; this 
may be called the single emphasis implied. 

In the second example, the words fight and 
rail are in antithesis with each other, and do not 
suggest any other antithetick objects; and this 
may be called the single emphasis expressed . 

In the next example, the emphatick words 
gross and refined are opposed to each other, and 
•contrasted with sense and understanding ; and 
this mutual correspondence and opposition of four 
parts to each other may not improperly be termed 
the double emphasis. 

When three antithetick objects are opposed to 
three, as in No. 4, we may call the assemblage 
the treble emphasis. 


SINGLE EMPHASIS. 

RULE. 

Whenever a sentence is composed of a positive 
and negative part , if this positive and negative 
imports that something is affirmed of one of the 
things which is denied of the other , the positive 
must have the falling and the negative the rising 
inflexion. 

C 5 


46 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


Double and treble emphasis are most frequent- 
ly regulated by the harmony of a sentence. 

EXAMPLE OF THE DOUBLE EMPHASIS. 

The pleasures of the imagination, taken in their full ex- 
tent, are not so grbss as those of sense , nor so rejined as 
those of the understanding. 

In this example, the ear perceives the necessi- 
ty of adopting the rising inflexion on the word 
sense ; and, for the sake of variety, lays the fall- 
ing inflexion on gross ; and, by the same antici- 
pation, perceiving the period must have the fall- 
ing inflexion on imaginations adopts the rising 
inflexion on refmed ; by these means, the great- 
est variety is obtained, and the sense inviolably 
preserved. 

EXAMPLE OF TREBLE EMPHASIS. 

She in her gtrls again is eburted ; 

/' go a -wboing with ray bbys ; 

Every emphatical word adopts that inflexion 
which the harmony of the verse would necessarily 
require, if there were not an emphatical word in 
the whole couplet. 

RULES FOR READING VERSE. 

General Observations. 

1. Wherever a sentence, or member of a sen- 
tence, would necessarily require the falling in- 
flexion in prose, it ought always to have the same 
inflexion in poetry. 

Ex. The dawn is overcast, the morning low’rs, 

And heavily in clouds brings on the day 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


47 


The great, the important day. 

Big with the fate of Cato and of Rome. 

The word Rome should have the falling inflex- 
ion ; On the contrary, if the word Rome has the 
rising inflexion, the whole will have a disagreea- 
ble whining tone. 

2. Wherever, in prose, the member or sentence 
would necessarily require the rising inflexion, 
this inflexion must necessarily be adopted in 
verse. 


RULE I. 

As the exact tone of the passion, or emotion, 
which verse excites, is not at first easy to hit, it 
will be proper always to begin a poem in a sim- 
ple and almost prosaick style* and so proceed till 
we are warmed with the subject, and feel the 
emotion we wish to express. 

RULE 2. 

In verse every syllable is to have the same ac- 
cent and every word the same emphasis, as in 
prose. 

Ex. Their praise is still the style is excellent : 

The sense they humbly take upon content. 

A stress upon the last syllable of the word ex- 
cellent must be avoided. 

Exception. When the ear would be disgust- 
ed with the harshness of the verse, if the right 
accent were preserved. Thus : 

The swiftness of those circles Attribute, 

Though numberless, to his Omnipotence. 

The first syllable of attribute should be ac* 
cented. 


48 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


RULE 3. 

The vowel e, which is often cut off by an apos- 
trophe in the word the , and in syllables before r, 
as dang'rous, gcn'rous , &c. ought to be preserved 
in the pronunciation, because the syllable it forms 
is so short as to admit of being sounded with the 
preceding syllable, so as not to increase the num- 
ber of syllables to the ear, or at all hurt the har- 
mony. 


RULE 4. 

Almost every verse admits of a pause in or 
near the middle of the line, which is called the 
caesura ; this must be carefully observed in read- 
ing verse, or much of the distinctness, and almost 
all the harmony will be lost. 

Ex. Nature to all things fix’d the limits fit, 

And wisely curb’d proud man’s pretending wit ; 

As on the land, while here the ocean gains, 

In other parts it leaves wide sandy plains ; 

Thus in the soul, while memory prevails, 

The solid pow’r of understanding fails ; 

Where beams of warm imagination play 
The memory’s soft figures melt away. 

These lines have seldom any points inserted in 
the middle, even by the most scrupulous punctu- 
ists ; and yet nothing can be more palpable to 
the ear, than that a pause in the first at things , in 
the second at curb'd , in the third at land, in the 
fourth at parts, and in the fifth at soul , is absolute- 
ly necessary to the harmony of these lines ; and 
that the sixth, by admitting no pause but at un- 
derstanding , and the seventh none but at imagina- 
tion, border very nearly upon prose. 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


49 


RULE 5. 

At the end of every line in poetry there must 
be a pause proportioned to the intimate or re- 
mote connexion subsisting between the two lines. 

RULE 6. 

In order to form a cadence in a period in rhym- 
ing verse, we must adopt the falling inflexion 
with considerable force, in the caesura of the last 
line but one. 

Ex. One science only will one genius fit, 

So vast is art, so narrow luiman wit ; 

Not only bounded to peculiar arts, 

Bui oft in those confuted to single parts ; 

Like kings we lose the conquests gain’d before. 

By vain ambition still to make them mbre ; 

Each might his sev’ral province |j well command, 
Would all but stoop to what they understand. 

In repeating these lines, we shall find it neces- 
sary to form the cadence, by giving the falling 
inflexion with a little more force than common 
to the word fir ovine e. 

RULE 7. 

A simile in poetry ought always to be read in 
a lower tone of voice than that part of the passage 
which precedes it. 

Ex. ’Twas then great Marlb’rough’s mighty soul was 
prov’d, 

That in the shock of charging hosts unmov’d. 

Amidst confusion, horrour, and despair. 

Examin’d all the dreadful scenes of war. 

In peaceful thought the field of death survey’d, 

To fainting squadrons sent the timely aid ; 

Inspir’d repuls’d battalions to engage, 

And taught the doubtful battle where to rage. 


50 


elements of elocution. 


So when an angel, by divine command 
With rising tempests shakes a guilty land, 

(Such as of late o’er pale Britannia past,) 

Calm and serene he drives the furious blast ; 

And, pleas’d th’ Almighty’s orders to perform, 

Rides on the whirlwind, and directs the storm. 

RULE 8. j 

Where there is no pause in the sense at the 
end the verse, the last word must have exactly 
the same inflexion it would have in prose. 

] 

Ex. O’er their heads a crystal firmament, 

Where on a sapphire throne, inlaid with pure 
Amber, aud colours of the show’ry arch. 

In this example, the word fiure must have the 
falling inflexion, whether we make any pause at 
it or not, as this is the inflexion the word would 
have, if the sentence were pronounced prosaically. 
For the same reason the words retired and went , 
in the following example, must be pronounced 
with the rising inflexion. 

At his command th’ uprooted hills retir’d 
Each to his place,* they heard his voice ami went 
Obsequious,* heav’n his wonted face renew’d, 

And with fresh flow’rels hill and valley smil’d. 

RULE 9. 

Sublime, grand, and magnificent description in 
poetry, frequently requires a lower tone of voice, 
and a sameness nearly approaching to a mono- 
tone, to give it variety. 

Ex. Hence ! loath’d Melancholy, 

Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born, 

In Stygian cave forlorn, 

’Mongst horrid shapes and shrieks, and sights unholy 
Find out some uncouth cell, 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


5l 


Where brooding darkness spreads his jealous wings, 
And the night raven sings; 

There, under ebon shades and low-brow’d rhcks, 

A 8 ragged as thy locks. 

In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell. 

In repeating this passage, we shall find the 
darkness and horrour of the cell wonderfully 
augmented, by pronouncing the eighth line, 

“ There, under ebon shades, and low-brow’d rocks,” 
in a low monotone. 

ADDITIONAL RULES RESPECTING ELOCUTION. 

1. Let your articulation be distinct and delib- 
erate. 

2. Let your pronunciation be bold and forcible. 

3. Acquire a compass and variety in the height 
of your voice. 

4. Pronounce your words with propriety and 
elegance. 

5. Pronounce every word consisting of more 
than one syllable with its proper accent. 

6. In every sentence distinguish the more sig- 
nificant words, by a natural, forcible, and varied 
emphasis. 

7. Acquire a just variety of pause and cadence. 

8. Accompany the emotions and passions 
which your words express, by correspondent 
tones, looks and gestures. 

In the application of these rules to practice, in 
order to acquire a just and graceful elocution, it 
will be necessary to go through a regular course 
of exercises ; beginning with such as are most 
easy, and proceeding by slow steps to such as are 
most difficult In the choice of these, the prac- 
titioner should pay particular attention to his pre- 


52 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


vailing defects, whether they regard articulation, 
command of voice, emphasis or cadence : and he 
should content himself with reading and speaking 
with an immediate view to the correcting of his 
fundamental faults, before he aims at any thing 
higher. This may be irksome and disagreeable ; 
it may require much patience and resolution ; but 
it is the only way to succeed ; for if a man cannot 
read simple sentences, or plain narrative, or di- 
dactic pieces, with distinct articulation, just em- 
phasis, and proper tones, how can he expect to 
do justice to the sublime descriptions of poetry, 
or the animated language of the passions ? 

In performing these exercises, the learner 
should daily read aloud by himself, and as often 
as he has an opportunity, under the direction of an 
instructor or friend. He should also frequently 
recite compositions memoriter. This method has 
several advantages : it obliges the speaker to 
dwell upon the ideas which he is to express, and 
hereby enables him to discern their particular 
meaning and force, and gives him a previous 
knowledge of the several inflexions, emphasis, and 
tones which the words require. And by taking 
his eyes from the book, it in part relieves him 
from the influence of the schoolboy habit of read- 
ing in a different key and tone from that of con- 
versation ; and gives him greater liberty to at- 
tempt the expression of the countenance and 
gesture. 

It were much to be wished, that all public 
speakers would deliver their thoughts and senti- 
ments, either from memory or immediate concep- 
tion : for, besides that there is an artificial uni- 
formity which almost always distinguishes read- 


ELEMENTS OP ELOCUTION. 


5 n 

o 


ing from speaking, the fixed posture, and the 
bending of the head, which reading requires, are 
inconsistent with the freedom, ease, and variety 
of just elocution. But if this is too much to be 
expected, especially from preachers, who have so 
much to compose, and are so often called upon 
to speak in public ; it is, however, extremely 
desirable, that they should make themselves so 
well acquainted with their discourse as to be able 
with a single glance of the eye, to take in several 
clauses, or the whole of a sentence. 


♦the 


CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


Bible Society Speeches. 

EXTRACTS FROM A SPEECH OF REV* 

W. DEALTRY. 

Delivered before the British and Foreign Bible Society, 
at their annual Meeting in 1813. 

1. IN contemplating the labours of this Insti- 
tution, the noblest, in my opinion, that ever pre- 
sented itself to the admiration of any age or coun- 
try, I would endeavour to forget that any differ- 
ence of feeling has existed on the subject. 

2. Every man who wishes to ascertain the 
character of the British and Foreign Bible So- 
ciety, knows where to find it. He will seek it in 
the hearts and dwellings of the poor. He will 
look for it among the thousands of our country- 
men, who have received its bounty, and are pray- 
ing for its success. 

3. He will visit the banks of the Neva and the 
Ganges : he will carry his mind both to the East- 
ern and the Western world : and if the outgoings 
of the morning and the evening should be heard 
to unite in praise, he wili turn to this messenger 
of Heaven, and bless tho Power that sent her 
rom our shores. 


CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


55 


4 . He will lift up his eyes, and look forward to 
the nations which are yet to come : he will there 
behold this great river of munificence rolling its 
majestic tide among the habitations of future days, 
and distributing in many channels its salutary 
streams. 

5- As a patriot, he will probably recollect with 
pleasure that the source of this mighty flood is in 
the bosom of his native land ; that, great as this em- 
pire is in commerce and the arts, it is not less dis- 
tinguished by that heaven-descended charity, 
which, while it walks upon the earth, has its head 
in the skies : which looks upon man, not as a 
creature of political expediency, a thing to be 
tutored and instructed just so far as may suit the 
soi'did schemes of a degrading policy ; but as a 
being, endowed with an immortal spirit, the 
breath of an eternal nature ; as capable of rising 
to the inheritance of the saints in light, and of 
dwelling forever in the unveiled and unclouded 
presence of ineffable Perfection. 

6. I believe, Sir, that the knowledge of God 
will one. day be universal ; and it is to accelerate 
that period, that I have attached myself to this 
sacred cause. Our wish is to do good upon the 
largest scale : to clear away the wreck of many 
generations : to heal the wounds that have been 
bleeding for nearly 6000 years ; to raise to the 
dignity of his condition every creature that bears 
the name of man. 




56 


CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


EXTRACTS FROM A SPEECH OF JAMES STE- 
PHEN, Esq. M. p. 

Delivered at the formation of the Bloomsbury and South 
Paneras Auxiliary Bible Society in England, Feb. 1813. 

1. The Bible Society has a design vast and 
comprehensive as any that can fill the mind of 
man ; to convey the word of God to every climate, 
to every region of the habitable globe, and to 
translate it into every language of mankind ; to 
renew in a manner the miracle of Pentecost, by 
enabling the inhabitants of every nation of the 
earth to say with amazement, “ We do every one 
hear in our own tongues the wonderful works of 
God.” 

2. But if there be not so much of grandeur in 
our limited object, there is within its range as 
much utility. 

. 3. And here, sir, permit me to notice one of the 
many blessings conferred on our poor countrymen 
by the possession of ihe Bible, when they have 
the power and inclination to read it. The poor 
man finds in those treasures of wisdom and knowl- 
edge which it contains, maxims to guide his 
judgment, and regulate his conduct even in the 
affairs of the present life : his conception&are en- 
larged ; his reasoning powers are exercised; his 
taste is raised far beyond the ordinary standard of 
uneducated minds, by familiarity with those 
beauties of composition with which the sacred 
volume abounds. In short, he becomes a being 
of a superior intellectual order to that to which he 
belonged before he was a reader of the Scriptures. 

4. But these are advantages of small account, 
when compared with the temporal comforts and 


CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


57 


benefits which the Bible confers on otir poor 
neighbours in the various distresses to which they 
are subject. Let us select a single instance. 

5. Let us suppose the common case of a poor 
widow just depri ved by death of that husband, the 
beloved companion of her youth, by whose manual 
labour she and her children were supported. In- 
stead of being soothed and consoled, as the opu- 
lent usually are in such sorrows, by all those means 
which the sympathy of friendship may devise, by 
change of scene, and by various other expedients, 
to divert her attention from her loss till the shock 
is broken, she is left to feel at once all the bitter- 
ness of her altered situation. 

6. Her maternal feelings are assailed by the 
present sufferings, as well as the sad prospects of 
her offspring. The hand that supported them is 
gone, and, instead of that plentiful though humble 
provision which his labour afforded, the scanty 
.pittance of a parish allowance is their sole refuge 
from immediate want. 

7. In cases like this, sir, abounding gs they do 
around us, what effectual relief can the hand 
of charity in general supply ? But let us suppose 
this unfortunate widow possessed of the Bible, and 
accustomed to resort to the inexhaustible Foun- 
tain of consolation which it supplies, and she will 
find comfort of the most effectual kind. 

8. There she may read, “ Commit to me thy 
fatherless children. I am the Father of the father- 
less, and the God of the widow.” There her ma- 
ternal apprehensions may be quieted by the de- 
claration, ‘‘ I have been young, and now am old, 
yet I never saw the righteous forsaken, or his seed 
begging bread.” 

d 2 


53 


CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


SPEECH OF CHARLES GRANT JR. ESq. M. P. 
Delivered on the same occasion with the preceding Speech. 

PART X. 

1. I come forward, sir, not with the presump- 
tuous attempt to enforce upon those before whom 
I stand the duty of supporting this object — not to 
kindle the cold heart, or rouse the sluggish spirit 
— but to join the general acclamation, and sym- 
pathize with the general feeling. I come, not to 
watch the first efforts of this cause — not to cheer 
its early struggles with the voice of hope and 
promises of conquest, but to hail its risen splen- 
dour and matured energies : not to prepare the 
way for its armed and adventurous march, but to 
swell its peaceful, though victorious procession. 
I come not to animate the battle, but to chant the 
triumph. 

2. And surely, sir, it is worth while to escape 
for a moment from the feverish turbulence of or- 
dinary pursuits, to contemplate this august spec- 
tacle. It is well worth while to stand by for a 
moment, and observe this mighty union of rank, 
and sex, and age, and talent, conspiring to the 
promotion of an object so noble, by means so 
simple, and yet so grand. 

3. A few years ago the very existence of this 
Society was doubtful. That sun which rose in 
such splendour this morning, has not twice finish- 
ed his annual round, since this society was ex- 
posed to the most violent attacks from the most 
formidable quarter. That sun wow, in the course 
of his circuit, scarcely visits any region, however 
remote, in which his beams are not called to 


CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


59 


salute some memorial, or gild some trophy of our 
success. 

4. We have seen this Institution beginning 
from a small origin, gradually acquiring strength, 
enlarging itself from shore to shore, from king- 
dom to kingdom, from nation to nation, illumin- 
ating mountain after mountain, and exploring the 
depths of distant vallies ; thus hastening towards 
that glorious consummation, when it shall em- 
brace in its mild and holy radiance all the habita- 
ble globe. The impulse is given, the career is 
begun ; and I firmly believe no human agency 
can now arrest its progress. 

5 . And why do I believe so, sir ? Why do I be- 
lieve that this Institution is exempt from the frail- 
ty which is common to other institutions ? I be- 
lieve so, because this Institution is founded not 
upon fleeting and superficial impressions — not 
upon theory and the vague dreams of fancy, but 
upon principles the most permanent and the most 
profound in the human character. 

6. It is founded upon passions which can never 
be torn from our nature— upon the deepest, the 
purest, the most amiable emotions of the mind — 
upon whatever affection has of most impressive, 
sympathy of most endearing, devotion of most 
sublime. It carries, therefore, in its bosom, the 
pledge and talisman of is future prosperity, and 
we may securely trust it to the affections of every 
coming age. 

PART II. 

1. Amid various sorrows that press upon our 
feelings, there is none more distressing than the 
d 3 


60 CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 

sight of calamity without the power of relieving 
it. There are many afflictions which admit of 
relief, which can be removed by the exertions of 
wealth, or soothed by friendship ; but there are 
others which are folded up in the recesses of a 
broken heart, which no sympathy can reach, no 
human efforts assuage, and which can be healed 
only by the hand that gave the wound. These 
are the sorrows for which the Bible Society pro- 
vides. 

2. If I were able to trace, and could persuade 
you to follow me in tracing, the progress of one 
of those holy volumes which we are met to dis- 
tribute ; if, for example, we could stand by the 
couch of intense pain ; of pain which even the 
voice of friendship is unequal to soothe, which 
seems to shiver the very existence, and looks for 
relief only in the sad refuge of the grave ; if we 
could here present the sacred volume, and de- 
velop its principles, its motives, its consolations ; 
if we could revive in the agonized heart the re- 
membrance of Him, who, from the manger to the 
cross, was acquainted with grief, and familiar 
only with privation and suffering ; if we could 
awake the recollection of that spotless Innocence 
so reviled, that ineffable Meekness so trampled 
upon, that unutterable Charity so insulted by those 
whom it came to save ; above all, if we could 
awake the memory of those sorrows which sad- 
dened the shades of Gethsemane, and have made 
the mournful summit of Calvary so sacred and 
precious in the eyes of gratitude and devotion : 

3. Or if we could visit another scene, and ob- 
serve human nature in its lowest stage of degra- 
dation ; if we could penetrate the ceil of the con- 


CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


61 


victed murderer, on whom the law has affixed its 
brand ; if we could mark those feelings frozen 
into apathy, that haggard countenance over which 
the passions have ceased to rave, but on which 
they have left deep the scars of their devastation, 
the traces of those tears which were wrung by re- 
morse, and have been dried by despair ; those 
convulsive throbs of heart which shake the whole 
frame, and give sad omen of approaching fate ; 
if at such a moment we could at once unfold the 
volume of life, and with an angel voice proclaim, 
that even for him there is hope beyond that dark 
scene of ignorance, that even for him there is for- 
giveness before the Eternal Throne — Why, sir, 
would it not be opening Heaven to his view ? 
Would not a sudden warmth thrill his bosom ? 
Would not that hardness be dissolved, and those 
fixed eyes melt down with tears of penitence and 
prayer ? 

4. We are about to return to our ordinary pur- 
suits and pleasures : but in the midst of that career 
let us sometimes pause, and recollect, that while 
we are immersed in business or amusement, these 
sacred volumes, like the eternal laws of nature, 
are silently performing their destined functions ; 
are still continuing their progress, visiting the 
abodes of vice and contagion, descending into the 
haunts of poverty and sorrow, cheering the cot- 
tage, making glad the solitary place, and bright- 
ening the desert with new verdure. 

5 . VVe cannot indeed trace these effects, we 
cannot perceive the hopes which are awakened, 
the griefs which are assuaged, the hearts which 
are bound up, the consolations which are admin- 
istered : But there is an Eye which traces them ; 

d 4 


62 


CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


and one day, perhaps, the page, in which those 
hopes, and griefs, and. consolations are recorded 
and treasured up for remembrance, may be un- 
folded to our sight. 

6. On that day we shall not repent that we have 
contributed, in our humble measure, to supply to 
millions of our fellow-creatures the means of con- 
solation in this life, and of happiness in a future 
state of existence. 

EXTRACTS FROM A SPEECH OF REV. 

W. DEALTRY. 

Delivered before the British and Foreign Bible Society 
1814. 

1. It has sometimes been said, that we should 
presently droop and die 1 that, there were marvel- 
lous symptoms of decline upon us already ! We 
ought to blush at the very thought of it. 

2. What 1 Shall our nerves be unstrung, when 
Ethiopia is stretching out her hands unto God ? 
Shall our hearts be frozen, when Finland and Si- 
beria are melting ? Shall we slumber, when Rus* 
sia and India ave awaking ? Can we faint, when 
the World is rising ? 

3 What cheering prospects are now presented 
to us 1 We seem at once to have emerged into 
a different climate. “ The winter is past ; the 
rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the 
earth ; the time of the singing of birds is come ; 
and the : oice of the turtle is heard in our land.’* 

4. It was but as yesterday, that we seemed to 
be placed upon the brow of a mountain, from 
which we beheld the moral world below us in 
clouds and commotion : wherever we turned, 


CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


63 


“We viewed a vast immeasurable abvss, 

“ Outrageous as a sea, dark, wasteful, wild.” 

5. But the clouds are now breaking ; the moral 
darkness is clearing away ; the landscape is wid- 
ening and extending ; many worshippers are seen 
advancing to the courts of the Lord ; many 
sanctuaries gladden the prospect ; many harps of 
Zion fling to the passing breeze their sweet and 
varied melody. The nations appear to be ani- 
mated with a new life ; and inhabitants of the 
farthest East as well as of the Western world, are 
turning their steps to the city of God. 

6. Many links arc added to that golden chain 
of charity, which ere long will encircle the whole 
family of man. It reaches even now from Mos- 
cow to Massachusetts, from Calcutta to Labrador. 

7. Christian harmony and Christian fellowship 
flourish and abound, wherever tire influence of 
this Society is felt. Its auxiliaries may be re- 
mote from each other, but their views, and their 
hopes, and their spirit, are the same. 

8. They are to be considered as the solid pillars 
and magnificent arches of a building fitly framed 
together, and growing “ unto a holy temple in the 
Lord.” 

EXTRACT FROM A SPEECH OF CHARLES 
GRANT, JR. ESQ. 

Delivered before the British and Foreign Bible Society. 

1814. 

1. There is indeed, my lord, something sin- 
gular in tius Institution. In the course of a few 
years, it has sprung up from obscurity to emi- 
nence, not amidst peace and tranquillity, not under 
n 5 


64 


CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


the fostering; influence of universal approbation ; 
not under skies always serene, and suns always 
genial ; but amidst storms and tempests, amidst 
calumny and invective, amidst alarming predic- 
tions and presages of ill success. 

2 It has sprung up with a solidity and strength 
which ensure its duration ; and at the same time 
with a rapidity of growth which mixes somewhat 
of awe with our surprize and satisfaction. It is 
successively enl||tging its dominions. Every 
new day announces the acquisition of a new pro- 
vince, of a new kingdom, I had almost said, of a 
new world. These are conquests which we love 
to celebrate. 

3. In conquests of another nature, however 
sacred the cause in which the sword has been 
drawn, there is always something which detracts 
from the joy, and wounds the feelings of humanity. 

4. In the midst of all the glow and exultation, 
there is something which secretly tells us of un- 
witnessed grief, of hearts that are breaking in 
solitude and silence ; something which tells us of 
those, to whom these acclamations are but the 
memorials of deeper anguish, and speak only of 
fathers, and husbands, and brothers, bleeding and 
desolate on the plains of death ; of those, in a 
word, on whom the war, without shedding any of 
its glory, has poured forth all its curses. 

5. But with respect to the conquests which we 
this day celebrate, there is no secret misgiving, 
no shade which can even for a moment pass over 
the brilliancy of the scene. Here indeed is 
ample scope for the widest views. 

6. But after having abandoned our imagination 
to the utmost warmth of philanthropic ardor, after 


CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


65 


having satisfied our largest feelings, we may fear- 
lessly descend into more minute investigations, 
and inquire liovv far individual and domestic hap- 
piness are affected by this general benefit. We 
may enter into the lowest details — and what are 
the details of these triumphs ? Griefs allayed, tears 
wiped away, remorse appeased, gleams of joy 
diffused over the house of sorrow, sickness divest- 
ed of its bitterness, the tomb itself sanctified as the 
threshold of fairer hopes and nobler prospects. 

7. These are circumstances which we may 
challenge the purest ol spiritual beings to witness. 
The angels of pity and love might descend to 
trace with rapture every step of our victorious 
march. 

8. Let that spirit of benevolence which has al- 
ready achieved such wonders, now go forth with 
new strength, and renovated ardor. Let it rush, 
in the fulness of its blessings, from one ex- 
tremity of the world to the other, kindling in its 
course all the elements of moral action, elevating 
the depressed, consoling the wretched, transform- 
ing vice into purity, and folly into wisdom, dis- 
sipating the chains of ignorance, trampling on the 
necks of superstition and idolatry, and every where 
renewing on the face of desolated nature some 
image of ancient happiness and primeval paradise. 


66 


CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


ADDRESS OF THE AMERICAN BIBLE SOCIETY, 

TO THE PEOPLE OF THE UNITED STATES, 

IMMEDIATELY AFTER ITS FORMATION IN 

THE YEAR 1816. 

.People of the United States : 

1. Have you ever been invited to an enterprise 
of such grandeur and glory ? Do" you not value 
the Holy Scriptures? Value them as containing 
your sweetest hope; your most thrilling joy? 
Can you submit to the thought that you should be 
torpid in your endeavours to disperse them, 
while the rest of Christendom is awake and alert ? 

2 Shall you hang back, in heartless indiffer- 
ence, when princes come down from their thrones, 
to bless the cottage of the poor with the gospel of 
peace ; and imperial sovereigns are gathering 
their fairest honors from spreading abroad the 
oracles of the Lord your God ? Is it possible that 
you should not see, in this state of human things, 
a mighty motion of Divine Providence ? 

3. The most heavenly charity treads close up- 
on the march of conflict and blood 1 The world is 
at peace 1 Scarce has the soldier time to unbind 
his helmet, and to wipe away the sweat from his 
brow, ere the voice of mercy succeeds to the 
clarion of battle, and calls the nations from enmity 
to love ! Crowned heads bow to the head which 
is to wear “ many crowns and, for the first time 
since the promulgation of Christianity, appear to 
act in unison for the recognition of its gracious 
principles, as being fraught alike with happiness 
to man and honor to God. 

4 . What has created so strange, so beneficent 
an alteration ? This is no doubt the doing of the 


CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


67 


Lord, and it is marvellous in our eyes. But what 
instrument has he thought fit chiefly to use ? That 
which contributes, in ail latitudes and climes, to 
make Christians feel their unity, to rebuke the 
spirit of strife, and to open upon them the day of 
brotherly concord — the Bible 1 the Bible l through 
Bible Societies ! 

5. Come then, fellow citizens, fellow Christ- 
ians, let us join in the sacred covenant. Let no 
heart be cold ; no hand be idle : no purse reluc- 
tant 1 Come, while room is left for us in the ranks 
whose toil is goodness, and whose recompense is 
victory. Come cheerfully, eagerly, generally. 

6. Be it impressed on your souls, that a contri- 
bution, saved from even a cheap indulgence, may 
send a Bible to a desolate family ; may become a 
radiating point of “ grace and truth” to a neigh- 
bourhood of error and vice ; and that a number 
of such contributions made at really no expense, 
may illumine a large tract of country, and suc- 
cessive generations of immortals, in that celestial 
knowledge, which shall secure their present and 
their future felicity. 

7. But whatever be the proportion between 
expectation and experience, thus much is certain : 
We shall satisfy our conviction of duty — we shall 
have the praise of high endeavours for the highest 
ends — we shall minister to the blessedness of 
thousands, and tens of thousands, of whom we may 
never see the faces, nor hear the names. 

8. We shall set forward a system of happiness, 
which will go on with accelerated motion and 
augmented vigor, after we shall have finished our 
career ; and confer upon our children, and our 
children’s children, the delight of seeing the wil- 


63 


CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


derness turned into a fruitful field, by the blessing 
of God upon that seed which their fathers sowed, 
and themselves watered. 

9. In fine, we shall do our part toward that ex- 
pansion and intensity of light divine, which shall 
visit, in its progress, the palaces of the great, and 
the hamlets of the small, until the whole u earth 
be full of the knowledge of Jehovah, as the waters 
cover the sea 1” 


EXTRACT FROM A STEECH OF REV DR. MASON. 

Delivered at the Annual Meeting of the British and For- 
eign Bible Society, May, 1817. 

1. My lord, it would create a smile, if the sub- 
ject were not infinitely too serious for smiles, that 
an apprehension of injury to the cause of sound 
Christianity, from the labours of such a society 
as this, should find its way into a Christian bosom. 
If, as your own Cbiliingworth has exclaimed, 
s ‘ The Bible, the Bible is the only religion of Prot- 
estants,** it is passing strange, that any good man 
should be afraid of dispersing it abroad, that is, 
spreading his own religion. 

2. My lord, the man who reads and reverences 
the Bible, is not the man of violence and blood : 
he will not rise up from the study of lessons which 
the Holy Ghost teaches, to commit a burglary : 
he will not travel with a Bible under his arm, 
and meditating upon its contents as forming the 
rule of his conduct, to celebrate the orgies of 
Bacchus, or .the rites of the Cyprian Venus. As- 
suredly they were not the leaves of the Bible 


CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


69 


which in 1780 kindled the flames of Newgate ; 
nor is it from the stores of inspired eloquence 
that the apostles of mischief draw those doc- 
trines and speeches which delude the understand- 
ing, and exasperate the passions of an ignorant 
and ill-judging multitude. 

3. The influence of the Bible, upon the habits 
of the community, is calculated to set up around 
every paternal government a rampart better than 
walls, and guns, and bayonets — a rampart of hu- 
man hearts. 

4. For the same reasons, the Bible, in propor- 
tion as it is known and believed, must produce a 
generally good effect on the condition of the 
world. In forming the character of the individ- 
ual and the nation, it cannot fail to mould also, in 
a greater or less degree, the conduct of political 
governments towards each other. 

5. It is not in the Bible, nor in the spirit which 
it infuses, that the pride which sacrifices heca- 
tombs, and nations of men to its lawless aggran- 
dizement, either finds, or seeks for, its ailment ; 
and had Europe been under the sway of the Book 
of God, this age had not seen a monster of am- 
bition, endeavouring to plant one foot on the 
heights of Montmartre, and the other on the hills 
of Dover; and while he scowled on the prostrate 
continent, stretching out his right hand to rifle the 
treasures of the East, and his left to crush the 
young glories of the West. Such a spirit was 
never bred in the bosom, nor drew nourishment 
from the milk of a Bible Society. 

6. The cause and interest of the Bible Society 
are not the cause and interest of a few visionaries, 
inebriated by romantic projects. — It is the cause 


70 


CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


of more than giant undertakings in regular and 
progressive execution. The decisive battle has 
been fought ; opposition comes now too late. 

7. He who would arrest the march of Bible So- 1 
eieties, is attempting to stop the moral machinery 
of the world, and can look for nothing but to be ■ 
crushed to pieces. The march must proceed. 
Those disciplined and formidable columns, which 
under the banner of divine truth are bearing down 
upon the territories of death, have one word of 
command from on high, and that word is “ On - j 
ward .” — The command does not fall useless on 
the ears of this Society. May it go “ onward,” 
continuing to be, and with increasing splendor, 
the astonishment of the world. 

8. A word more, my lord, and I shall have j 
done. It relates to a topic on which I know not 
whether my emotions will allow me to express 
myself distinctly ; it is the late unhappy difference 
between my country and this — between the land j 
of my fathers and the land of their children. 

9. I cannot repress my congratulations to both, 
that the conflict was so short, and the reconcilia- 
tion so prompt; and, I trust, not easily to be broken. ! 
Never again, my lord, (it is a vow in which I have 
the concurrence of all noble spirits and all feeling ; 
hearts,) never again may that humiliating specta- , 
cle — two nations to whom God has vouchsafed 
the enjoyment of rational liberty ; two nations who 
are extensively engaged, according to their 
means, in enlarging the kingdom, in spreading 
the religion of the Lord Jesus — the kingdom of ! 
peace — the religion of love — those two nations 
occupied in the unholy work of shedding each ' 
other’s blood. Never again may such a spectacle 




CHRISTIAN ORATOR, 


71 


be exhibited to the eyes of afflicted Christianity ! 
May their present concord, written not merely 
with pen and ink, but on the living tablets of the 
heart, enforced by the sentiment of a common or- 
igin? by common language, principles, habits, 
hopes, and guaranteed by an all gracious Provi- 
dence, be uninterrupted! May they, and their 
Bible Societies, striving together with one heart 
and one soul to bring glory to God in the highest, 
and on earth to manifest good will towards men, 
goon, increasing in their zeal, their efforts, and 
their success; and making stronger and stronger, 
by the sweet charity of the Gospel, the bands of 
I their concord. 



GRANT, JUN. Esq. 


I Delivered before the British and Foreign Bible Society, 
at their 12th Anniversary, on a motion of thanks to 
^jixiliary Societies. 

1. “ But what is it shall render our thanks 
I worthy of this universal acceptance ? What is our 
I connexion with those to whom we offer them ? 
| By what ties are we bound to them ?” 

2. “We are bound to them by sacred ties, by 
I congenial feelings, by kindred affections : we have 
[ with them common joys, and common sorrows 

I hopes interwoven with our immortal nature ; 
t union endeared by those common hopes and com- 
[ mon sorrows. 

3. I speak of sorrows, and yet I have called this 
a festival. In ordinary festivals we exclude ever r 


72 


CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


thing of distress : in the ordinary scenes of festal 
relaxations we forget (if we can forget) that there 
are in the world around us griefs tnost agonized 
which cannot be relieved, — sympathies most dear 
which must be broken — friendships most uifited, 
which must be dissolved — hearts most knit to- 
gether, which must be torn asunder. 

4. We forget, that there is one pillow on which 
every head must rest, every eye be closed. We 
forget that there is one narrow house, to which 
no wealth can impart comfort, to which no dignity 
can confer lustre, from which no power can give 
exemption. 

5. But here these topics are legitimate and 
necessary ; because here, as the basis and motive 
of our meeting, we aver the frail and precarious 
tenure, on which we hold and enjoy life ; because 
it is the very charm of our Society, that it connects 
together the common wants and common sorrows 
of mankind. 

5 But our connexion with those to whom we 
are offering our thanks does not rest here ;^t is 
not only because we have common sorrows, but 
because we have common hopes also. Whatever 
is most interesting to the reason, elevating to the 
affections, consolatory to the sorrows, animating 
to the hopes of all mankind, is combined in the 
volumes which we distribute. 

7. To every pain, they give its suitable allevia- 
tion ; to every distress its best remedy ; to part- 
ed friendship they hold forth re-union ; to sick 
ness, unfading health ; to death, they open pros- 
pects beyond this world ; to the anguish tha- 
kneels over the grave, the hope that triumphs int 
the resurrection. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 73 

These are the etherial visitants that descend 
to mix with men. It is in the solitude of grief, in 
the desertion of anguish, that the eye, purified by 
tears, discerns the celestial guests : In the ordin- 
ary commerce of the world they are more ob- 
scured. 

9. These hopes are like the stars that brighten 
the firmament of night : In the glare of day, in 
the meridian brightness of the sun, they are un- 
observed; but when the traveller is alone in the 
darkness, when he anticipates an impenetrable 
night, he then observes the fires that are kindled 
in the firmament to guide and cheer his steps. 

10. It is on these hopes, and these sorrows, 
common to our whole race, that our union is 
founded; to sustain these hopes, and to cheer 
these sorrows, is the common object which binds 
every patron to our society. So long as we rely 
on these two emotions of our common nature, our 
union will be profound as our sorrows, and un- 
fading as our hopes. No weakness will be pro- 
duced by extending our efforts ; the more we en- 
large our limits, the deeper will be our founda- 
tions : the wider we diffuse our exertions, the 
more triumphant will be their energy.” 


£ 


74 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR 


THE BIBLE ABOVE ALL PRICE. 

From a Discourse before the Bible Society of Maine, by 
Rev. Edward Pa} sou. 

PART I. 

1 . The Bible is not only the most ancient bock, 
but the most ancient monument of human exer- 
tion, the oldest offspring of human intellect, now in 
existence. Unlike the other works of man, it in- 
herits not his frailty. AH the contemporaries of 
its infancy have long since perished, and are for- 
gotten; yet this wonderful volume still survives. 
Like the fabled pillars of Seth, which are said to 
have bid defiance to the deluge, it has stood for 
ages, unmoved in the midst of that flood, which 
sweeps away men with their labors into oblivion. 

2. We contemplate, with no ordinary degree 
of interest, a rock, which lias braved for centuries 
the ocean’s rage, practically saying, “ Hitherto 
shalt thou come, but no farther ; and here shall 
thy proud waves be stayed.” With still greater 
interest, though of a somewhat different kind, 
should we contemplate a fortress, which during, 
thousands of years, had been constantly assaulted 
by successive gene rations of enemies : around 
whose walls millions had perished ; and, to over- 
throw which, the utmost efforts of human force 
and ingenuity had been exerted in vain. 

3. Such a rock, such a fortress, we contemplate 
in the Bible. For thousands of years this volume 
has withstood, not only the iron tooth of time, 
which devours men and their works together, but 
all the physical and intellectual strength of man. 
Pretended friends have endeavoured to corrupt 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


75 


and betray it ; kings and princes have perscvcr- 
ingly sought to banish it from the world ; the civil 
and military powers of the greatest empires have 
been leagued for its destruction ; the fires of per- 
secution have been often lighted, to consume it. 

4- Yet still the object of all these attacks re- 
mains uninjured; while one army of its assailants 
after another has melted away. Though it has 
been ridiculed more bitterly, misrepresented more 
grossly, opposed more rancorously, and burnt 
more frequently, than any other book, and per- 
haps than all other books united ; it is so far from 
sinking under the efforts of its enemies, that the 
probability of its surviving until the final consum- 
mation of all things is now evidently much great- 
er than ever. The rain has descended ; the 
floods have come; the storm has arisen and beaten 
upon it ; but it falls not, for it is founded upon 
a rock. 

5. Who would not esteem it a most delightful 
privilege, to see and converse with a man, who 
had lived through as many centuries, as the Bible 
has existed ; who had conversed with all the suc- 
cessive generations of men, and been intimately 
acquainted with their motives, characters and con- 
duct ? What could be more interesting than the 
sight ; what more pleasing and instructive than 
the society of such a man ? Yet such society wc 
may in effect enjoy, whenever we choose to open 
the Bible. In this volume we see the chosen 
companion, the most intimate friend of the pro- 
phets, the apostles, the martyrs, and their pious 
contemporaries ; the guide, whose directions they 
implicitly followed ; the monitor, to whose faith* 
E 2 


76 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


ful warnings and instructions they ascribed their 
wisdom, their virtues, and their happiness. 

6. This too is the book, for the sake of which 
our pious ancestors forsook their native land, and 
came to this then desolate wilderness ; bringing 
it with them, as their most valuable treasure, and 
at death bequeathing it to us, as the richest be- 
quest in their power to make. From this source 
they, and millions more now in heaven, derived 
the strongest and purest consolation ; and scarce- 
ly can we fix our attention on a single passage in 
this wonderful book, which has not afforded com- 
fort or instruction to thousands, and been wet with 
tears of penitential sorrow or grateful joy, drawn 
from eyes that will weep no more. There is pro- 
bably not an individual present, some of whose 
ancestors did not, while on earth, prize this volume 
more than life ; and breathe many fervent pray- 
ers to heaven, that all their descendants, to the 
latest generation, might be induced to prize it in 
a similar manner. 

7. To this volume we are also indebted for the 
reformation in the days of Luther ; for the conse- 
quent revival and progress of learning ; and for 
our present freedom from papal tyranny. Wher- 
ever it comes, blessings follow in its train. Like 
the stream, which diffuses itself, and is apparent- 
ly lost among the herbage, it betrays its course by 
its eifects. Wherever its influence is felt, tem- 
perance, industry, and contentment prevail ; nat- 
ural and moral evils are banished, or mitigated ; 
and churches, hospitals, and asylums for almost 
every species of wretchedness arise, to adorn the 
landscape, and cheer the eye of benevolence. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


77 


PART II. 

1. In the fabulous records of pagan antiquity 
we read of a mirror endowed with properties so 
rare, that, by looking into it, its possessor could 
discover any object, which he wished to see, how- 
ever remote ; and discover with equal ease per- 
sons and things above, below, behind, and before 
him. Such a mirror, but infinitely more valuable, 
than this fictitious glass, do we really possess in 
the Bible. By employing this mirror in a proper 
manner, we may discern objects and events, past, 
present, and to come. 

2. Here we may contemplate the all enfolding 
circle of the Eternal Mind ; and behold a most 
perfect portrait of Him, whom no mortal eye hath 
seen, drawn by his own unerring hand. Piercing 
into the deepest recesses of eternity, we may be- 
hold Him, existing independent and alone, pre- 
vious to the first exertion of his creating energy. 
We may see heaven, the habitation of his holiness 
and glory, “ dark with the excessive brightness** 
of his presence ; and hell, the prison of his justice, 
with no other light than that, which the fiery bil- 
lows of his wrath cast, “ pale and dreadful,” ser- 
ving only to render “ darkness visible.” 

3. Here too we may witness the birth of the 
world, which we inhabit ; stand, as it were, by its 
cradle ; and see it grow up from infancy to man- 
hood, under the forming hand of its Creator. We 
may see light at His summons starting into exist- 
ence, and discovering a world of waters without 
a shore. Controlled by His word, the waters sub- 
side ; and islands and continents appear, not as 

5 3 


78 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


now, clothed with verdure and fertility, but sterile 
and naked, as the sands of Arabia. 

4. Again he speaks; and the landscape ap- 
pears, uniting the various beauties of spring, sum- 
mer, and autumn , and extending farther than the 
eye can reach. Still all is silent ; not even the hum 
of the insect is heard ; the stillness of death per- 
vades creation ; till, in an instant, songs burst from 
every grove ; and the startled spectator, raising 
his eyes from the carpet at his feet, sees the air, 
the earth, and the sea filled with life and activity, 
in a thousand various forms. 

5. By opening this volume, we may, at any 
time, walk in the garden of Eden with Adam ; sit 
in the ark with Noah ; share the hospitality, or 
witness the faith of Abraham ; ascend the mount 
of God with Moses ; unite in the secret devotions 
of David ; or listen to the eloquent and impassion- 
ed address of St. Paul. Nay, more ; we may here 
converse with Him, who spake, as never man 
spake ; participate with the spirits of the just 
made perfect in the employments and happiness 
of heaven. 

6. Destroy this volume, as the enemies of hu- 
man happiness have vainly endeavoured to do, and 
you render us profoundly ignorant of our Crea- 
tor ; of the formation of the world, which we in- 
habit ; of the origin and progenitors of our race ; 
of our present duty and future destination ; and 
consign us through life to the dominion of fancy, 
doubt and conjecture. 

7. Destroy this volume ; and you rob us of the 
consolatory expectation, excited by its predictions, 
that the stormy cloud, which has so long hung 
over a suffering world, will at length be scattered ; 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


79 


you forbid us to hope that the hour is approaching, 
when nation shall no more lift up sword against 
nation ; and righteousness, peace and holy joy 
shall universally prevail ; and allow us to antici* 
pate nothing, but a constant succession of Avars, 
revolutions, crimes, and miseries, terminating 
only with the end of time. 

8. Destroy this volume ; and you deprive us, 
at a single blow, of religion, with all the animating 
consolations, hopes and prospects which it affords; 
and leaves us nothing, but the liberty of choosing 
(miserable alternative !) between the cheerless 
gloom of infidelity, and the monstrous shadows of 
paganism — you unpeople heaven ; bar forever its 
doors against the wretched posterity of Adam ; 
restore to the king of terrors his fatal sting : bury 
hope in the same grave, which receives our bodies; 
consign all who have died before us to eternal 
sleep, or endless misery ; and allow us to expect 
nothing at death, but a smilar fate. In a word, 
destroy this volume ; and you take from us at 
once, every thing, which prevents existence from 
becoming of all curses the greatest : You degrade 
man to a situation, from which he may look up 
with envy to “ the brutes that perish.” 


SPEECH OF GEORGE GRIFFIN, ESq. 

Delivered before the American Bible Society, immediate- 
ly after its formation in New- York, May, 1816. 

PART I. 

1. I am persuaded that there is no person pre- 
sent, who does not feel the inspiration of this oc- 
E 4 


80 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


casion. For myself, I congratulate my country* 
that we now tinci on her annals the name of The 
American Bible Society. 

2. This is an occasion to awaken the best feel- 
ings of the heart. We are assembled, not to rouse 
the rancour of political zeal ; not to arrange plans 
of foreign conquest ; — not to shout the triumphs 
of victory : we have a nobler object ; — to aid the 
march of the everlasting Gospel through the 
world, — to spread abroad a fountain, whose waters 
are intended lor the healing of the nations. 

3. The design of this august institution is not 
merely to relieve the wants of our own country, 
but to extend the hand of charity to the most dis- 
tant lands ; to break asunder the fetters of Ma- 
hometan imposture ; to purify the abominations of 
Juggernaut : to snatch the Hindoo widow from 
the funeral pile ; to raise the degraded African to 
the sublime contemplation of God and immortal- 
ity ; to tame and baptize in the waters of life the 
American savage ; to pour the light of heaven 
upon the darkness ol the Andes ; and to call back 
the nations from the altars of devils to the temple 
of the living God. 

4- These high objects arc to be accomplished 
by the universal promulgation of the Bible ; the 
Bihle — that volume, conceived in the councils 
of eternal Mercy, containing the wondrous story 
of redeeming love, blazing with the lustre of Je- 
hovah’s glory ; that volume, pre-eminently calcu- 
lated to soften the heart, sanctify the affections, 
and elevate the soul of man ; to enkindle the 
poet’s fire, and teach the philosopher, wisdom ; to , 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


81 


consecrate the domestic relations ; to pour the 
balm of heaven into the wounded heart ; to cheer 
the dying hour, and shed the light of immortality 
upon the darkness of the tomb. 

5. I reiterate the mighty term — the BIBLE; 
that richest of man’s treasures — that best of 
Heaven’s gifts. Amazing volume ! In every one 
of thy pages, I see the impress of the Godhead. 

6. How divine are thy doctrines, how pure thy 
precepts, how sublime thy language I How un- 
affecting is the tenderness of an Otway, or an 
Euripedes, when compared with the heart-touch- 
ing pathos of thy David or Jeremiah ! How do the 
loftiest effusions of a Milton or a Homer sink, 
when contrasted with the sublimer strains of thine 
Isaiah or Habakkuk ! 

7. And how do the pure and soul-elevating 
doctrines of thy Moses or thy Paul look down, as 
from the height of heaven, upon the grovelling 
systems of a Mahomet or Confucius ! Give this 
Bible an empire in every heart, and the prevalence 
of crime and misery would yield to the universal 
diffusion of millennial glory. 

8. Destroy this Bible ; let the ruthless arm of 
infidelity tear this sun from the moral heavens, 
and all would be darkness, and guilt, and wretch- 
edness ; again would 


<* Earth [feel] the wound, and nature from her se2t, 
“ Sighing through all her works, [give] signs of wo, 
That all was lost.” 


PART II. 


1 . Eighteen centuries ago, the divine Author 
of our religion, about to ascend to his native 

E 5 


32 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


heavens, pronounced with his farewell voice, 
“ Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel 
to every creature.** A little band of Christian 
heroes obeyed the heavenly mandate ; and, cloth- 
ed in their Master’s armour, encountered and 
overcame the united powers of earth and hell. 

2. But the apostolic age did not always last. 
Seventeen hundred years have since elapsed, and 
more than three-fourths of the human family are 
still enveloped in Pagan or Mahometan darkness. 
A lethargy, like the sleep of the sepulchre, had 
long fastened itself on the Christian world. 

3. It was the tremendous earthquake of modern 
atheism, that roused them from this slumber ; and 
while, during the last twenty years, the vials of 
God’s wrath have been pouring upon the nations, 
convulsing to its centre this distracted globe, the 
Bible has re-commenced its triumphs. 

4. This tree of Heaven’s planting has stood and 
strengthened amidst the prostration of thrones, 
and the concussion of empires. The apostolic 
age is returning. The countries of Europe, which 
lately rung with the clangor of arms, are now 
filled with Societies for the promulgation of the 
Gospel of peace. 

5. Through those fields but lately drenched in 
human blood, now flow the streams of salvation. 
Europe is bending under the mighty effort of ex- 
tending redemption to a world. Kings and empe- 
rors are vicing with the humblest of their subjects 
in this stupendous work. The coffers of the rich 
are emptied into heaven’s treasury, and there also 
is received the widow’s mite. 

6. But there is one nation which has stood forth 
pre-eminent in this career of glory. With the 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


83 


profoundest veneration, I bow before the majesty 
of the British and Foreign Bible Society. This 
illustrious association, (its history is recorded in 
heaven, and ought to be proclaimed on earth,) has 
been instrumental in distributing a million and a 
half of volumes of the word of life ; and has mag- 
nanimously expended, in a single year, near four 
hundred thousand dollars for the salvation of man. 
This transcendent institution is the brighest star 
in the constellation of modern improvements, and 
looks down from its celestial elevation on the 
diminished glories of the Grecian and Roman 
name. 

7 . The electric shock has at length reached our 
shores. Local Bible Societies have been hereto- 
fore established in this country ; but they wanted 
extent of means, comprehensiveness of design, 
and consolidation of action. 

8. It was to be expected, and the Christian world 
had a right to expect, that the American nation 
would arise in the majesty of its collected might, 
and unite itself with the other powers of Christen- 
dom, in the holy confederacy for extending the 
empire of religion and civilization. This auspi- 
cious era has now arrived. 

9. The last week has witnessed an august as- 
semblage of the fathers of the American Church- 
es, of every denomination, convened in this metro- 
polis from all parts of the country, not to brandish 
the sword of religious controversy, but to unite 
with one heart, in laying the foundation of the 
majestic superstructure of the American Bible 
Society. 

10. Athens boasted of her temple of Minerva ; 
but our city is more truly consecrated, by being 


84 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


the seat of this hallowed edifice. It is not a 
mosque containing, or reputed to contain, the re- 
mains of the Arabian prophet, but a fabric reared 
and devoted to the living God by the United ef- 
forts of the American Churches. 

11. Fellow-citizens! will you coldly receive 
this honor, or will you not rather show yourselves 
worthy of this sacred distinction? Iam persuad- 
ed, that your munificence and zeal in this holy 
cause will be recorded as an animating example 
to the nation. For to whom should it be reserved 
to electrify this western continent, but to the Lorn- 
don of America ? Our country has long stood 
forth the rival of England in commerce and in 
arms ; let her not be left behind in the glorious 
career of evangelizing the world. 


SPEECH OF PETEll A. JAY, ESQ. 

Delivered before a meeting held in the city of New-York, 
immediately after the formation of the American Bible 
Society. 

TART I. 

1. When we consider the multiplied divisions 
which exist in this extensive country ; the ani- 
mosities of political parties, the multitude of our 
religious sects, the local interests and jealousies, 
that have so often impeded or defeated the most 
salutary undertakings, we have reason to be as- 
tonished at the perfect unanimity, which has in 
this instance prevailed among delegates from 
widely distant parts of the union, and of various 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR 


85 


political and religious denominations. It marks, 
indeed, the finger of Providence, that always pro- 
vides means for the accomplishment of his own 
great and beneficent purposes. 

2. Under Providence, this unanimity can only 
be ascribed to the strong sense of duty in those 
who composed the constitution, which we have 
heard, and to the singleness of object they had 
in view. The latter, I esteem the great charac- 
teristic, which, I trust, will render the American 
Bible Society an honor to the country, and a bless- 
ing to the world. 

3. Our efforts in the great cause of diffusing 
Christianity, when compared with those of other 
nations, have hitherto been small. Not that we 
have wanted means ; for, except during a short 
interval, we have been blessed with peace and 
with abundance. Nor will I impute it to want of 
zeal for the happiness of mankind. But our 
efforts have been separately made, and were, 
therefore, feeble. We have now a common 
centre in which we can unite ; we have now a 
cause in which all can join. 

4. Our object is to distribute the Holy Scrip- 
tures without note or comment. At this, no poli- 
tician can be alarmed, no sectary can be reason- 
ably jealous. We shall distribute no other book, 
we shall teach no disputed doctrine. Laying 
aside for this purpose the banners of our respec- 
tive corps, we assemble under the sole standard 
of the great Captain of our salvation. We en- 
deavor to extend his reign, and in his name alone 
we contend. 

5. Do we wish to improve the temfioral condi- 
tion of the human race ? Then experience has 


86 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


shown, that Christianity is the most efficient 
agent. Survey the world — Where have barba- 
rism and ignorance, and superstition, and cruelty, 
and all the demons of darkness, their abodes ? 
Where but in those unhappy regions that sit in 
darkness and the shadow of death, deprived of 
the light of the gospel of Christ ? And where do 
you find knowledge, and humanity, and charity ? 
Where do the sciences and the arts reside ? 
Where does commerce flourish ? where does 
liberty dwell ? Nowhere but in the Christian 
world. 

6 Christianity enlarges the mind while it puri- 
fies the heart. It expands our views, it animates 
us with the most powerful motives, and while it 
teaches that we are members of the great family 
of mankind, it enables us to perform the duties 
which that relation imposes. 

7. While Mahommedan nations have long 
been stationary or retrograde; while the in- 
habitants of India continue to practice their bloody 
and abominable rites ; while most other pagans 
are sunk almost below the condition of the 
brutes that perish ; the Christian world has ad- 
vanced with rapid strides in civilization, in 
wealth, in humanity, in every thing that con- 
tributes to temporal prosperity, as well as in the 
virtues which fit us for imn>ortality. 

PART II. 

1. An irrevocable decree has gone forth, an 
inviolable promise has been made, that they, 
who turn many to righteousness, shall shine like 
stars forever and ever. But how shall those 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


87 


who are doomed to business and labor, turn 
many to righteousness ? Such is the constitution 
of human society, that all cannot be missionaries ; 
all cannot apply themselves to the spiritual con- 
cerns of others. This Society enables all to con- 
tribute to the spiritual improvement of all. 

2. The Bible is the best of missionaries. It 
will reach where no preacher can penetrate ; it 
will preach where he cannot be heard ; it will 
reprove, alarm, advise, console in solitude, when 
no passion interferes to drown its voice. Of 
these missionaries thousands may be sent abroad, 
and where the seed is abundantly sown, we may 
reasonably hope for an abundant harvest. 

3 Though the diffusion of the scriptures is 
the great end of our Institution, yet another bless- 
ing will also spring from it. Too iong have 
Christians been divided. Sect has been opposed 
to sect ; angry controversies have agitated the 
church ; misrepresentations have been made, and 
believed ; and good men, who ought to have loved 
each other, have been kept asunder by preju- 
dices, which were the offspring of ignorance 

4. In this Society the most discordant sects will 
meet together, engaged in a common cause ; pre- 
judices will abate ; asperities will be softened ; 
and when it is found, as undoubtedly it will be 
found, that the same love of God and of man ani- 
mates all real Christians, whatever may be their 
outward rites, or forms of ecclesiastical discipline, 
that most of them agree in fundamental doctrines, 
and that their differences principally relate to 
points of little practical importance, there must 
be an increase of brotherly love, and of a truly 
catholic spirit. 


88 THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 

5. Sir, I pretend not to see more clearly than 
others through the dim veil of prophecy, but if 
the predictions which foretel a millenial period 
of happiness on earth are ever to be literally ful- 
filled, it can only be by the accomplishment of 
another prophecy, that “The knowledge of the 
Lord shall cover the earth, as the waters cover 
the sea.” Let us then be blessed instruments in 
the diffusion of this knowledge, that having con- 
tributed to the triumph of the Redeemer’s cause, 
we may be permitted to partake it. Then we 
shall be entitled to address the Christian Church 
in the exalting strains : 

The seas shall waste, the skies in smoke decay : 

Hocks fall to dust, and mountains melt away ; 

But fix’d bis word, his saving power remains, 

Thy realm forever lasts, thv own Messiah reigns. 


Missionary Speeches. 


THE OFFICE OF THE CHRISTIAN MISSIONARY, 
NOBI.E AND ELEVATED. 

From Rev. R. Hall’s Address to E. Carey. 1814. 

L If to survey mankind indifferent situations, 
and under the influence of opposite institutions, 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


89 


civil and religious, tends to elevate the mind above 
vulgar prejudice, by none is this advantage more 
eminently possessed than by Christian Mission- 
aries. In addition to the advantages usually an- 
ticipated from foreign travel, their attention is di- 
rectly turned to man in the most interesting light 
in which he can be viewed. 

2. An intelligent Missionary, in consequence 
of daily conversing with the natives on the most 
momentous subjects, and at the most affecting 
moments, has opportunities of becoming ac- 
quainted, not merely with the surface of manners, 
but with the interior of the character, which can 
rarely fall to the lot of any other person ; besides 
that, Christianity, it may be justly affirmed, is the 
best decypherer of the human heart, and is that 
alone which can solve its contradictions and ex- 
plain its anomalies. 

3. Hence it may be fairly expected, nor will 
the expectation disappoint us, that an experienced 
Missionary, possessed of the talent and habit of 
observation, will, in every country, deserve to be 
classed amongst the most enlightened of its in- 
habitants. 

4 Few things more powerfully tend to en- 
large the mind, than conversing with great ob- 
jects, and engaging in great pursuits. That the 
object of the Missionary is entitled to that appel- 
lation, will not be questioned by him who reflects 
1 on the infinite advantages derived from Chris- 
tianity, to every nation and clime, where it has 
prevailed in its purity, and that the prodigious 
superiority which Europe possesses over Asia and 
Africa, is chiefly to be ascribed to this cause. 


90 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


5. It is the possession of a religion which com- 
prehends the seeds of endless improvement. I 
which maintains an incessant struggle with what- 
ever is barbarous, selfish, or inhuman, which by 
unveiling futurity, clothes morality with the sanc- 
tion of a divine law, and harmonizes utility and 
virtue in every combination of events, and in 
every stage of existence ; a religion, which by 
affording the most just and sublime conceptions 
of the Diety and of the moral relations of man, 
has given birth at once to the loftiest speculation," 
and the most child-like humility, uniting the in- 
habitants of the globe into one family, and in the 
bonds of a common salvation ; it is this religion, 
which, rising upon us like a finer sun, has quick- 
ened moral vegetation, and replenished Europe 
with talents, virtues and exploits, which, in spite 
of its physical disadvantages, have rendered it a 
paradise, the delight and wonder of the world. 

6. An attempt to propagate this religion among 
the natives of Hindostan, may perhaps be stig- 
matized as visionary and romantic ; but to enter 
the lists of controversy with those who would 
deny it to be great and noble, would be a degra 
dation to reason. 


CHRISTIANITY AND PAGANISM CONTRASTED. 

A Speech of the Rev. G. T. Noel. 1815*. 

I . My lord — there are peculiar seasons under 
which the mind is enabled to form a more strik- 
ing contrast than at others, between the blessings 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. . 


91 


of Christianity and the miseries of Paganism — - 
seasons when only perhaps some single point of 
difference is present to tne view. It occurred to 
me a short time ago, to fili up the interval before 
the appointed hour when I was to witness the 
proceedings of a Bible Association among the 
poor, by wandering in the church yard of a coun- 
try village. 

2. The day was fine, and the surrounding coun- 
try was exceedingly lovely. My feelings were 
much excited as I stopped at the grave of an 
humble individual, who had quitted this vale of 
sorrow at the age of twenty-one ; on her tomb 
stone was this inscription — 

“ By faith on Jesus’ conquests she relied. 

On Jesus’ merits ventured all, and died 1” 

3. I was led immediately to compare the cir- 
cumstances of such a death, and the blessedness 
of such a hope in eternity, with the uncertainty 
and gloom of a heathen’s departure from this 
world. I could imagine to myself a piace of 
burial in some idolatrous land, where the sun 
might shine as brightly, and the surrounding 
scenery be yet more beautiful. 

4. But if I should ask what memorial would 
be written on some youthful grave, I was afflict- 
ed at the thcugiit that all must be dark and cheer- 
less here! No ray from heaven could gleam on 
such a grave Many traces of fond remembrance, 
many anguished memorials of the poet, many 
tender associations might be recorded on the 
stone that marked so sacred a spot ; but no hope 
of future re-union, no accredited prospect of an 

F 


92 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


immortal existence, no certain assurance of par- 
don, and mercy, and peace, could be written 
there ! 

5. No tidings of a Saviour’s love, no consola- 
tions of his Spirit, no foretaste of his salvation, 
could cheer the victims sinking into the dust, or 
bind up the mourners’ hearts who deposited in si- 
lence the form which they had loved so long. In that 
land none tells them, in those striking words of 
your Report, that they have God for a Father, 
Christ for a Saviour, the Holy Spirit for a Guide, 
and Heaven for a home, where they shall separate 
no more. 

6. Oh, then, how beautiful ufion the mountains 
should we esteem the feet of him who would carry 
the glad tidings of fie ace to Scenes so desolate, and 
to hearts so broken by sorrow and sin 1 


THE CLAIMS OF AFRICA. 

Extracts from a Speech of John S. Harford, Estp 1815. 

1. Ovfr the greater part of Africa, every 
baleful form of savage barbarism broods. Who 
could have believed, in the second century, when 
Christianity appeared to have obtained a firm 
hold on her northern shores, and the presence of 
no less than seventy bishops dignified the council 
of Carthage, that, in the progress of ages, whilst 
surrounding nations were advancing in knowl- 
edge and civilization, the rising sun of Africa’s 
glory was not only to be arrested in its course, 
but suddenly to sink in a hideous night ? 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


y£ 

2. Who could have believed, when the great 
Bishop of the African church reflected, by his 
heroic martyrdom, so much honor on the Christian 
cause, that the name of Cyphian was so soon to 
be forgotten, where most of all its memory should 
have been cherished, or that the Crescent was 
destined so soon to triumph over the Cross? 
Who could have believed, that, where Mahom- 
etanism was shut out, there a still more odious 
faith should prevail, and the worship of devils 
be united to a profligacy almost equally im- 
probable ? 

3. The picture of 300* millions of people thus 
enthralled, should at least excite the inquiry, 
44 Can we devise no means for their illumination ? 
Are there no instruments within our read), which 
may be thus nobly directed ?’* 

4. But Africa has stronger claims upon us 
than those of humanity. She has large arrears 
upon our justice unpaid. We have been the 
authors of enormous evils to that unhappy coun- 
try. The dreadful wounds which our influence 
opened there are not yet healed. 

5. I will not dwell on the horrors of the slave 
trade, farther than to assert the moral necessity 
which is thence laid upon us of supporting every 
rational scheme of reparation. We have wiped 
away the guilt and shame, it is true, of this odious 
traffic, so far as the mere abolition of it goes ; and 
hereby we have perhaps averted impending judg- 
ments : but are we not bound to reverse Use horrid 
scenes of the past by the mild glories of the fu- 
ture ? 


150 millions. 
F 2 


94 


'THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


6. Africans say, “ that, before Christians visit- 
ed them, they lived in peace ; but tiiat wherever 
Christianity comes, there comes with it a sword, 
gun. powder, and ball.’* Is this the impression 
which our countrymen have left behind them of 
that religion, one of whose leading attributes is, 
Peace and good will to men ? Be it our care to 
blot out this foul stain, and to revive the remark 
forced from the lips of infidelity in the primitive 
ages : “ See how these Christians love one 
another !** 

7. Were I disposed to strengthen my own 
statements by an appeal to high authority, I 
could point to that of a much lamented and illus- 
trious statesman, Mr. Pitt. In one of his speeches 
on the slave trade, which ranks among the fairest 
models of modern eloquence, he strongly dwells 
upon the duty of our promoting the civilization of 
Africa : and, in the glowing visions of his bril- 
liant fancy, he realizes the scene for which his 
heart pleaded. 

8. He anticipates a day, when the beams of 
science and philosophy shall break in upon 
Africa ; and, uniting their influence to that of 
pure religion, shall illuminate and invigorate the 
most distant extremities of that immense conti- 
nent. Could the warmest advocate of Mission- 
ary Institutions have suggested to himself a more 
satisfactory consummation of his object ? 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


95 


AN OBJECTION TO MISSIONS ANSWERED. 
Extracts from a Speech of J. S. Harford, Esq. 1815. 

1. The state of Pagan nations, Sir, is such, 
that it would be easy to press the arguments 
which I have used much more strongly ; but I 
am well aware, that after all which can be urged, 
there arc persons who will be ready to object, 
“ This is a Qui\otical, crusading scheme. What 
right have we to interfere in the faith or the regu- 
lations of other nations ? What should vve say, 
were the Grand Turk to send us 10,000 copies 
of the Koran, accompanied by a set of mission- 
aries, to make us Mahometans ; or still more, in 
what way should we receive a mission of Bra- 
mins 

2. To such a question I would simply reply, 
What right had St. Paul (who I shall take it for 
granted, according to the learned theory of the 
present Bishop of St. David’s first preached the 
Gospel in Britain) what right had he to visit this 
country when the thick film of Pagan darkness 
involved the minds of its inhabitants ? What right 
had he to brave the terrors of our stormy seas, 
and to encounter the still more savage manners 
of our ancestors ? 

3. What right bad he to oppose himself to 
their horrid customs, to throw down by his doc- 
trine their altars stained with the blood of human 
sacrifices, and to regenerate the code of their 
morals disgraced by the permission of every crime 
which can brutalize and degrade human nature ? 
What right had he to substitute, for the furious 


96 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


imprecations of their druids, the still small voice 
of Him who was meek and lowly in heart ? 

4. What right had he to exchange their horrid 
pictures of the invisible world, reeking with blood 
and stained with characters of revenge, for the 
glorious prospects of the heavenly Mount Sion, 
the innumerable company of angels, and the 
spirits of just men made perfect? What right 
had he to plant, by such a procedure, the seminal 
principle of all our subsequent glory and pros- 
perity as a nation, our boasted liberty, our admi- 
rable code of law the whole inimitable frame and 
constitution of our government in church and 
state ? 

5. This quarrel with the memory of St. Paul I 
shall leave with the opponents of Missionary in- 
stitutions to settle ; and when they have made 
up their minds as to the degree of infamy which 
is to cleave to him, for having been (in a remote 
sense at least) the first conveyancer to us of the 
best blessings which we now enjoy, I will then 
consign over the Missionaries of the present day 
to their severest reprehension. Theirs is the 
same noble fault ! theirs, the same great enter- 
prise 1 

6. To countries situated as Britain once was, 
immersed in equal wretchedness, barbarity, and 
vice, they carry the same infallible fianaceum : 
they hope that, under the blessing of the great 
Head of the church, a success equally striking 
will, in process of time, by a gradual progression, 
smile upon their labors. They trust that, wher- 
ever the song of Sion is heard, its influence, as ia 
fabled of the lyre of Amphion, will cause the 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


97 


moral chaos to leap into beauty, order, and har- 
mony. 

7 . And why should it not ? Is the arm of God 
shortened ? Are the strong holds of Satan’s king- 
dom become impregnable ? Do we expect that 
a mission of angels will be employed to fulfil the 
predictions of prophecy in relation to the universal 
diffusion of Christianity ? or can we suppose that 
any beings but men are to be its honored propa- 
gators ? 

8. We live in awful and critical times. Around 
us lie scattered the fragments of ancient states 
and venerable establishments. The only sure 
foundation on which we can build a hope, that 
the pillar of our country’s glory will still lift its 
august head erect amidst this heap of desolation, 
and still continue to be a rallying point for op- 
pressed nations, is the prevalence within its con- 
fines of pure religion. 

9. I admire, as much as any man the valor of 
our armies, and the skill of our commanders. I 
honor them as instruments of national security. 
But we have lately seen how the most consum- 
mate skill may become infatuated, and armies ap- 
parently irresistible be so swept away, that their 
bleaching bones alone can testify that they once 
existed. 

10. If true practical Christianity should still 
gain ground among us ; if it should so prevail as 
to exhibit, amidst all our national sins, a strong 
and concentrated union of good men (however 
separated in minor points) striving in the spirit 
of mutual good will, in their several spheres, for 
the diffusion of domestic piety, and for the pro- 
motion of the Redeemer’s kingdom throughout 

F 4 


98 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


the nations of the earth ; then we may calmly 
regard the efforts of our enemies, confident in the 
protecting shield of Omnipotence : then, we may 
expect ere long to behold the halcyon forms of 
peace and love building their nests upon the 
agitated waves of human trouble : then, the world 
will be taught to know that a nation, in which the 
fear of God is no less eminent than the spirit o' 
valor and freedom, is indeed invincible. 


EXT H ACTS FROM A SPEECH OF THE REV. J. K 
SINGER. 

Delivered before an Irish Missionary Sociely. 1815. 

1. I cannot, my lord, avoid congratulating 
myself that Ireland has at length taken her propel 
station among the glorious fe llow -workers with 
God ; that the country of my birth, and the re- 
ligion of my choice, the land with which I have 
associated all my hopes of happiness, and the 
faith which I trust has sanctified these hopes, have 
not remained idle spectators of the exertions of 
others, but that they too have come down to assist 
the Lord against the mighty. 

2. Is it not, my lord, to be ranked among the 
strangest anomalies of the human mind, that this 
great, this interesting object, should have met 
with heads so prejudiced, or hearts so hard, as to 
oppose its success ? 

3. Is it not strange, that a cause which appeals 
by every motive which should move the politician, 
the philanthropist, the Christian — which should 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


99 


bind the worldling by his interests, the moralist 
by his humanity, the Christian by his hopes — a 
cause whose only means are benefits and persua- 
sion, whose end is but happiness and salvation to 
millions of our benighted species, whose tendency 
is but peace and good will on earth — that such a 
cause, the cause of God and man, of ourselves and 
of our fellow creatures, should be opposed, ma- 
ligned, calumniated — that rank and influence and 
learning should be arrayed against the simple 
Missionary — that facts should be misrepresented 
or denied, reasoning perverted or silenced ; nay, 
that the morality of the Koran and the mildness 
of the Vedas, should have been placed in impious 
competition beside the law of God, beside the 
Gospel of Christ ! 

4. Would you preserve your possessions in 
the East, an empire, at which the cupidity of an 
Alexander or a Caesar might blush ; an empire, 
from which, by a thousand channels, wealth and 
industry and commerce have poured into your 
country, have new strung the exhausted sinews 
of war, and conducted you unharmed through the 
mighty contest from which you are just now re- 
posing — would you preserve this empire in 
peace, and hand it down entire to your posterity, 
that they too may stand forth in their day as the 
liberators of Europe — Christianize the East. 

5. Should the whirlwind of war again be 
turned against your territories directed by a new 
Tamerlane or a Jenghis, beware of a divided 
faith, of an alienated population : if you would 
bind your subjects to your interests by a »’ 
stronger than art or policy ever devised. i f 

f 5 


100 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


would rest in security from foreign invasion, and 
domestic treason — Christianize the East. 

6. Nor is it by policy alonfe that 1 would induce 
you to an act of justice. Humanity has her 
claims; and millions ol your fellow subjects, 
groaning under the aggravated miseries ol des- 
potism and priestcraft, present an object for be- 
nevolence more extender, and more urgent than 
was ever offered to tiie contemplation of man. 

7. Would you relieve these wretched victims 
of superstition * — would you rescue the pilgrim 
from the agonizing hook, snatch the aged parent 
from the monster of the desert or the flood, save 
the trembling matron from the devouring flames, 
or prevent the wretched infant from becoming the 
victim of its more wretched mother’s bigotry ? — 1 
would you restore the parent to the child, and the 
child to the parent ? — Christianize the East. 

8. But we have yet, my lord, a higher princi- 
ple of action. We regard the Hindoo and the 
African not merely as subjects, or as men, but as 
immortal and responsible agents in whatever cli- 
mate born, or with whatever color tinged ; equally 
with ourselves to stand before the bar of God, to 
be judged by an infinite and perfect Being ; 
equally with us to have sinned and fallen short of 
the law ; equally to want a Saviour, whose merits 
and sufferings they may plead on that dreadful 
day. 

9. Will you suffer millions of your fellow crea- 
tures to remain ignorant of that Saviour, until 
they see him as their judge ? Is there aught on 

'nth would purchase from you the knowledge of 
‘st and his salvation l And can you refuse 
j preacher, that they may hear, that they 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


101 


may believe, that they may live ? Oh, if you in- 
deed think that there is no other name under hea- 
ven whereby man can be saved , but the name of 
Jesus — if you do not think our faith to be foolish- 
ness, and its promises delusions — if you do not 
expect that Brahma, and Mahomet, and Christ 
shall be alike powerful to save — Oh Christianize 
■the East ! 


ON THE DANGER OF SENDING MISSIONARIES TO 
THE HEATHEN. 

Extracted from the Speech of Rev. Mr. Bickersteth, be- 
fore an Association of the Church Missionary Society, 
Sept. 1815. 

1. If the danger be objected to us, I answer 
by asking how do we reason in worldly mat- 
ters ? If a hostile kingdom is to be invaded, Wel- 
lington shall have his 100,000 of our noblest and 
bravest men — the first men in the country : they 
shall be exposed to most tremendous danger ; 
thousands of them shall fail ; and yet Wellington 
will not stop till he reaches the head-quarters, and 
triumphs in the very capital of our enemy. I 
need not speak the praise of Wellington — then 
blame not in us, what you commend in him. 

2. Wc are called upon to send an invading 
army into the kingdom of darkness, under the 
banners of that Mighty Prince, who never yet 
failed of success. Let not British Christians be 
less valiant than British Soldiers. Our hope is 
more glorious, our reward more illustrious, our 


102 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


success more certain, and it will bring more 
abundant benefits to man. 

3. The love of country induces the soldier to 
give up friends and relatives, and ail that is dear 
to him. The love of country, the love of man- 
kind, and the love of the Saviour- — all unite to 
constrain the Missionary to give up all he can 
for Christ ; and if it does so, is it not ours to sup- 
port him in this welfare 1 

4. If it be said, “ We see few signs of success 
in Africa,” I answer, it is the peculiar property 
of faith, to excite us to labor in the performance 
of a plain duty, though the reward be unseen, de- 
pending upon the promise that it shall eventually 
succeed; and I answer again, many Missionary 
attempts, which have ultimately been greatly 
blessed, have at the beginning had great discour- 
agements. That noble Mission of the Baptists, 
which now fills the Christian world with admira- 
tion, did not, for a long season, seem at all to 
prosper : nor, as you have heard, are we without 
success in Africa. 

5 My lord — when I look back upon the long, 
dark, and dreary night of Paganism, and when I 
observe again the various degrees of success 
which God has given to the prudent exertions of 
all his servants ot every denomination, in every 
part of the world, methinks I see the first appear- 
ance of the dawn of a better day. 

6. I behold the Sun of Righteousness rising, 
with healing in its wings, upon a benighted 
world — the first streaks of his approach paint the 
horizon — a cheering and comfortable tinge glows 
in the sky — the edges of the clouds grow brighter 
and brighter — the shades of night recede, and the 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


103 


people that walk in darkness shall yet see the 
great Light of the world. 

7. Did our opponents wish to hinder our suc- 
cess, which I will never believe they do, they 
could sooner stop the advance of the splendid 
luminary of the heavens, than retard the progress 
of that infinitely more glorious Sun, which is the 
light to lighten the Gentiles , and will yet be 
the glory of Israel. , 

8. Africa may indeed now be as still as the wa- 
ters of the most retired and embosomed lake ; 
but, my lord, that stone of the gospel is yet to be 
thrown in, which will not only make a circle in 
its own immediate neighborhood, but a wider and 
wider and still wider circle, till it embraces the 
whole surface, and Africa is moved to its farthest 
bounds. 


Speeches on War. 


ON THE HORRORS OF WAR* 

From a Sermon of Rev. Robert Hall, delivered io F.ng- 
land, June, 1802, on a day of Thanksgiving for a gen- 
eral Peace. 


PART I. 

1. Real war, my brethren, is a very different 
thing from that painted image of it, which you see 


104 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


on a parade, or at a review ; it is the most awful 
scourge that Providence employs for the chastise- 
ment of man. It is the garment of vengeance 
with which the Deity arrays himself, when he 
comes forth toy punish the inhabitants of the 
earth. 

2. Though we must all die , as the woman of 
Tekoa said, and are as water spilt upon the ground 
which cannot he gathered up, yet it is impossible 
for a humane mind to contemplate the rapid ex- 
tinction of innumerable lives without concern. 
To perish in a moment, to be hurried instan- 
taneously, without preparation and without warn- 
ing, into the presence of the Supreme Judge, 
has something in it inexpressibly awful and 
affecting. 

3. Since the commencement of those hostili- 
ties which are now so happily closed, it may be 
reasonably conjectured that not less than half a 
million of our fellow creatures have fallen a sacri- 
fice. Halt a million of beings, sharers of the 
same nature, warmed with the same hopes, and 
as fondly attached to life as ourselves, have been 
prematurely swept into the grave ; each of whose 
deaths has pierced the heart of a wife, a parent, 
a brother, or a sister. How many of these scenes 
of complicated distress have occurred since the 
commencement of hostilities, is known only to 
Omniscience : that they are innumerable, cannot 
admit of a doubt. In some parts of Europe, per- 
haps, there is scarcely a family exempt. 

4. In war death reigns without a rival, anu 
without control. War is the work, the element, 
or rather the sport and triumph, of death, who 
glories not only in the extent of his conquest, but 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


105 


in the richness of his spoil. In the other methods 
of attack, in the other forms which death as- 
sumes, the feeble and the aged, who at the best 
can live but a short time, are usually the victims ; 
here it is the vigorous and the strong. 

5. It is remarked by the most ancient of poets, 
that in peace children bury their parents, in war 
parents bury their children : nor is the differ- 
ence small. Children lament their parents, sin- 
cerely indeed, but with that moderate and tran- 
quil sorrow, which it is natural for those to feel 
who are conscious of retaining many tender ties, 
many animating prospects. Parents mourn for 
their children with the bitterness of despair ; the 
aged parent, the widowed mother, loses, when 
she is deprived of her children, every thing but 
the capacity of suffering ; her heart, withered and 
desolate, admits no other object, cherishes no 
other hope. It is Rachael weeping for her chil- 
dren , and refusing to be comforted , because they 
are not. 


PART II. 

1. To confine our attention to the number of 
those who are slain in battle, would give but a 
very inadequate idea of the ravages of the sword. 
The lot of those who perish instantaneously, may 
be considered, apart from religious prospects, as 
comparatively happy, since they are exempt from 
those lingering diseases and slow torments, to 
which others are liable. We cannot see an indi- 
vidual expire, though a stranger, or an enemy, 
without being sensibly moved, and prompted by 


106 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


compassion to lend him every assistance in our 
power. Every trace of resentment vanishes in a 
moment: every other emotion gives way to pity 
and terror. 

2. In these last extremities, we remember 
nothing but the respect and tenderness due to our 
common nature. What a scene then must a 
field of battle present, where thousands are left 
without assistance, and without pity, with then- 
wounds exposed to the piercing air, while the 
blood, freezing as it flow's, binds them to the earth, 
amidst the trampling of horses, and the insults of 
an enraged foe ! 

3. If they are spared by the humanity of the 
enemy, and carried from tlie held, it is but a pro- 
longation of torment. Conveyed in uneasy ve- 
hicles, often to a remote distance, through roads 
almost impassable, they are lodged in ill prepared 
receptacles for the wounded and the sick, where 
the variety of distress baffles all the efforts of hu* 
rnanity and skill, and renders it impossible to give 
to each the attention he demands. 

4. Far from their native home, no tender assi- 
duities of friendship, no well known voice, no 
wife, or mother, or sister, is near to sooth their 
sorrows, relieve their thirst, or close their eyes in 
death. Unhappy man ! and must you be sw\pt 
into the grave unnoticed and unnumbered, and 
no friendly tear to be shed for your sufferings, or 
mingled with your dust ! 

5. We must remember, however, that as a very 
small portion of a military life is spent in actual 
combat, so it is a very small part of its miseries, 
which must be ascribed to this source. More are 
consumed by the rust of inactivity than by the 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 10 ? 

edge of the sword ; confined to a scanty or un- 
wholesome diet, exposed in sickly climates, har- 
rassed with tiresome marches and perpetual 
alarms ; their life is a continual scene of hard- 
ships and clangers. They grow familiar with 
hunger, cold and watchfulness. Crowded into 
hospitals and prisons, contagion spreads amongst 
their ranks, till the ravages of disease exceed 
those of the enemy. 

6. We have hitherto only adverted to the suf- 
ferings of those who are engaged in the profes- 
sion of arms, without taking into our account the 
situation of the countries which are the scene of 
hostilities. How dreadful to hold every thing at 
the mercy of an enemy, and to receive life itself 
as boon dependent on the sword. How boundless 
the fears which such a situation must inspire, 
where the issues of life and death are determined 
by no known laws, principles, or customs, and no 
conjecture can be formed of our destiny, except 
as far as it is dimly decyphered in characters of 
blood, in the dictates of revenge, and the caprices 
of power* 

7. Conceive but for a moment the consterna- 
tion which the approach of an invading army 
would impress on the peaceful villages in this 
neighborhood. When you have placed your- 
selves for an instant in that situation, you will 
learn to sympathize with those unhappy countries 
which have sustained the ravages of arms. 

8. But how is it possible to give you an idea of 
these horrors? Here you behold rich harvests, 
the bounty of Heaven, and the reward of indus- 
try, consumed in a moment, or trampled under 
foot, while famine and pestilence follow the steps of 


108 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


desolation. There the cottages of peasants given 
up to the flames, mothers expiring through 
fear, not for themselves but their infants ; the in- 
habitants flying with their helpless babes in all di- 
rections, miserable fugitives on their native soil ! 

9. In another part you witness opulent cities 
taken by storm ; the streets, where no sounds 
were heard but those of peaceful industry, filled 
on a sudden with slaughter and blood, resounding 
with the cries of the pursuing and the pursued ; 
the palaces of nobles demolished, the houses of 
the rich pillaged, the chastity of virgins and of 
matrons violated, and every age, sex and rank 
mingled in promiscuous massacre and ruin. 


PEACE AND WAR CONTRASTED. 

From the same. 

1. The morality of peaceful times is directly 
opposite to the maxims of war. The fundamen- 
tal rule of the first is to do good ; of the latter, to 
inflict injuries. The former commands us to 
succour the oppressed ; the latter to overwhelm 
the defenceless. The former teaches men to love 
their enemies ; the latter to make themselves ter- 
rible to strangers. 

2. The rules of morality will not suffer us to 
promote the dearest interest by falsehood ; the 
maxims of war applaud it when employed in the 
destruction of others. That a familiarity with 
such maxims must tend to harden the heart, as 
well as to pervert the moral sentiments, is too ob- 
vious to need illustration. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


109 


3. The natural consequence of their prevalence 
is an unfeeling and unprincipled ambition, with an 
idolatry of talents and a contempt of virtue ; 
whence the esteem of mankind is turned from the 
humble, the beneficent, and the good, to men who 
are qualified by a genius fertile in expedients, a 
courage that is never appalled, and a heart that 
never pities, to become the destroyers of the 
earth. 

4. While the philanthropist is devising means 
to mitigate the evils and augment the happiness 
of the world, a fellow worker together with God, 
in exploring and giving effect to the benovolent 
tendencies of nature ; the warrior is revolving, 
in the gloomy recesses of his capacious mind, 
plans of future devastation and ruin. 

5. Prisons crowded with captives, cities emptied 
of their inhabitants, fields desolate and waste, are 
among his proudest trophies. The fabric k of 
his fame is cemented with tears and blood ; and 
if his name is wafted to the ends of the earth, it is 
in the shrill cry of suffering humanity ; in the 
curses and imprecations of those whom his sword 
has reduced to despair. 


G 


i 10 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR* 


CHARACTER OF THE EUROPEAN WAR. 
From the same. 


PART I. 

1. To acknowledge the hand of God is a duty 
indeed at all times ; but there are seasons when 
it is made so bare, that it is next to impossible, 
and therefore signally criminal, to overlook it. 
It is almost unnecessary to add that the present 
is one of those seasons. 

2. If ever we are expected to be stilly and know 
that he is God , it is on the present occasion, after a 
crisis so unexampled in the annals of the world ; 
during which, scenes have been disclosed, and 
events have arisen, so much more astonishing 
than any that history had recorded or romance 
had feigned, that we are compelled to lose sight 
of human agency, and to behold the Deity acting 
as it were apart and alone. 

3. The contest in which we have been lately 
engaged is distinguished from all others in 
modern times by the number of nations it em- 
braced, and the animosity with which it was con- 
ducted. Making its first appearance in the centre 
of the civilized world, like a fire kindled in the 
thickest part of a forest, it spread during ten years 
on every side ; it burnt in all directions, gather- 
ing fresh fury in its progress, till it inwrapped 
the whole of Europe in its flames 1 an awful spec- 
tacle not only to the inhabitants of the earth, but 
in the eyes of superior beings 1 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR 


111 


4. What place can we point out to which its 
effects have not extended ? Where is the nation, 
the family, the individual, I might almost say, 
who has not felt its influence ? It is not, my 
brethen, the termination of an ordinary contest, 
which we are assembled this day to commemo- 
rate ; it is an event which includes for the present 
(may it long perpetuate) the tranquillity of Eu- 
rope and the pacification of the world. 

5. We are met to express our devout gratitude 
to God for putting a period to a war, the most 
eventful perhaps that has been witnessed for a 
thousand years, a war which has transformed the 
face of Europe, and removed the land-marks of 
nations and limits of empire. 


PART II. 

1. The w r ar in which so great a part of the 
world was lately engaged has been frequently 
styled a war of principle. This was indeed its 
exact character : and it was this which rendered 
it so violent and obstinate. 

2. Disputes which are founded merely on pas- 
sion or on interest, are comparatively of short du- 
ration. They are, at least, not calculated to 
spread. However they may inflame the princi- 
pals, they are but little adapted to gain par- 
tisans. 

3. To render them durable, there must be an 
infusion of speculative opinions. For, corrupt as 
men are, they are yet so much the creatures of 
reflection, and so strongly addicted to sentiments 
of right and wrong, that their attachment to a 

G 2 


M2 THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 

public cause can rarely be secured, nor their ani- 
mosity be kept alive, unless their understandings 
are engaged by some appearances of truth and 
rectitude. Hence speculative differences in re- 
ligion and politics become rallying points to the 
passions. 

4. Whoever reflects on the civil wars between 
the Guelphs and the Ghibbelines, or the adherents 
of the Pope and the Emperor, which distracted 
Italy and Germany in the middle ages : or those 
betwixt the houses of York and Lancaster, in the 
fifteenth century, will find abundant confirmation 
of this remark. 

5. This is well understood by the leaders of 
parties in all nations ; who, though they frequent- 
ly aim at nothing more than the attainment of 
power, yet always contrive to cement the attach- 
ment of their followers, by mixing some specula- 
tive opinion with their contests, well knowing 
that what depends for support merely on the 
irascible passions soon subsides. 

6. Then does party animosity reach its height, 
when to an interference of interests sufficient to 
kindle resentment, is superadded a persuasion of 
rectitude, a conviction of truth, an apprehension 
in each party that they are contending for princi- 
ples of the last importance, on the success of 
which the happiness of millions depends, 

7. Under these impressions men are apt to in- 
dulge the most selfish and vindictive passions 
without suspicion or control. The understanding 
indeed, in that state, instead of controlling the 
passions, often serves only to give steadiness to 
their impulse, to ratify and consecrate, so to 
speak, all their movements* 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 11 > 

8. When we apply these remarks to the late 
contest, we can be at no loss to discover' the 
source of the unparalled animosity which inflamed 
it. Never before were so many opposing inter- 
ests, passions, and principles, committed to such 
a decision. 

9. On one side an attachment to the ancient 
order of things, on the other a passionate desire 
of change ; a wish in some to perpetuate, in 
others to destroy every thing ; every abuse sacred 
in the eyes of the former ; every foundation at- 
tempted to be demolished by the latter ; a jeal- 
ousy of power shrinking from the slightest inno- 
vation ; pretensions to freedom pushed to mad- 
ness and anarchy ; superstition in all its dotage, 
impiety in all its fury ; whatever, in short, could 
be found most discordant in the principles, or 
violent in the passions of men, were the fearful 
ingredients which the hand of Divine justice se- 
lected to mingle in this furnace of wrath. 

10. Can we any longer wonder at the desola- 
tions it made in the earth ? Great as they are, 
they are no more than might be expected from 
the peculiar nature of the warfare. When we 
take this into our consideration, we are no longer 
surprised to find that the variety of its battles 
burdens the memory, that the imagination is per- 
fectly fatigued in travelling over its scenes of 
slaughter,, and that falling, like the mistic star in 
the Apocalypse, upon the streams and the rivers , 
it turned the third part of their waters into 
blood . 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


3 


U4 


THE SPLENDOR OF WAR AN OBSTACLE TO ITS 
EXTINCTION. 

From a Sermon of the Rev. T. Chalmers delivered in 
Glasgow, Jan, 1816, on a day of National Thanksgiving 
for the Restoration of Peace. 

1. The first great obstacle then to the extinc* 
tion of war is the way in which the heart of man 
is carried off from its barbarities and its horrors, 
by the splendor of its deceitful accompaniments. 
There is a feeling of the sublime in contemplat- 
ing the shock of armies, just as there is in con- 
templating the devouring energy of a tempest, 
and this so elevates and engrosses the whole man, 
that his eye is blind to the tears of bereaved 
parents, and his ear is deaf to the piteous moan 
of the dying, and the shriek of their desolated 
families. 

2. There is a gracefulness in the picture of a 
youthful warrior burning for distinction on the 
field, and lured by this generous aspiration to the 
deepest of the animated throng, where, in the fell 
work of death, the opposing sons of valor struggle 
for a remembrance and a name ; and this side 
of the picture is so much the exclusive object of 
our regard, as to disguise from our view the 
mangled carcasses of the fallen, and the writh- 
ing agonies of the hundreds and the hundreds 
more who have been laid on the cold ground, 
where they are left to languish and to die. 

3. There no eye pities them. No sister is 
there to weep over them. There no gentle hand 
is present to ease the dying posture, or bind up 
the wounds, which, in the maddening fury of the 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


Ii5 


combat, have been given and received by the 
children of one common lather. There death 
spreads its pale ensigns over every countenance, 
and when night comes on, and darkness gathers 
around them, how many a despairing wretch 
must take up with the bloody field as the untended 
bed of his last sufferings, without one friend to 
bear the message of tenderness to his distant 
home, without one companion to close his eyes. 

4. I avow it. On every side of me I see causes 
at work, which go to spread a most delusive col- 
ouring over, war, to remove its shocking barbar- 
ities to the back ground of our contemplations 
altogether. I see it in the history which tells me 
of the superb appearance of the troops, and the 
brilliancy of their successive charges. I see it 
in the poetry which lends the magic of its num- 
bers to the narrative of blood, and transports its 
many admirers, as, by its images, and its figures, 
and its nodding plumes of chivalry, it throws its 
treacherous embellishments over a scene of legal- 
ized slaughter. 

5. I see it in the music which represents the 
progress of the battle ; and where, after being in- 
spired by the trumpet-notes of preparation, the 
whole beauty and tenderness of a drawing-room 
are seen to bend over the sentimental entertain- 
ment ; nor do I hear the utterance of a single 
sigh to interrupt the death tones of the thickening 
contest, and the moans of the wounded men as 
they fade away upon the ear, and sink into lifeless 
silence. 

6. All, all goes to prove what strange and half- 
sighted creatures we are. Were it not so, war 
could never have been seen in any other aspect 

G 4 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


U6 

than that of unmingled hatefulness ; and I can 
look to nothing but to the progress of Christian 
sentiment upon earth, to arrest the strong current 
of its popular and prevailing partiality for war. 
Then only will an imperious sense of duty lay the 
check of severe principle, on ali the subordinate 
tastes and faculties of our nature. Then will 
glory be reduced to its right estimate, and the 
wakeful benevolence of the gospel, chasing away 
every spell, will be devoted to simple but sublime 
enterprizes for the good of the species. 


THE HOLY LEAGUE. 

Interesting State Paper.* 

1. In the name of the Holy and Indivisible 
Trinity. 

Their Majesties, the Emperor of Austria, the 
King of Prussia, and Emperor of Russia, in con- 
sequence of the great events which have distin- 
guished Europe, in the course of the three last 
years, and especially, of the blessings which it has 
pleased Divine Providence to shed upon those 
states whose governments have placed their confi- 
dence and their hope in it alone, having acquired 
the thorough conviction, that it is necessary for cn- 

* This document is thought to be of such importance, 
that we insert it in tlus hook, though not in exact accord- 
ance Avith its design. We do ii that it imv be pre- 
served and read, and become familiar to t be vouth of our 
country — and its influence be universally diffused among 
our citizens. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


II r 


suring their continuance, that the several powers, 
in- their mutual relations, adopt the sublime truths 
which are pointed out to us by the eternal religion 
of the Saviour God ; 

2 Declare solemnly that the present act has 
no other object than to show in the face of the 
universe their unwavering determination to adopt 
for the only rule of their conduct, both in the ad- 
ministration of their respective states, and in their 
political relations with every other government, 
the precepts of this holy religion, the precepts of 
justice, of charity, and of peace, which, far from 
being solely applicable to private life, ought, on 
the contrary, directly to influence the resolutions 
of princes, and to guide all their undertakings 
as being the only means of giving stability to 
human institutions, and of remedying their im- 
perfections. 

3. Their majesties have therefore agreed to 
the following articles. 

Art. i. In conformity with the words of the 
Holy Scriptures, which command all men to re- 
gard one another as brethren, the three contract- 
ing monarchs will remain united by the bonds of 
a true and indissoluble fraternity, and considering 
each other as co-patriots, they will lend one 
another on every occasion, and in every place, as- 
sistance, aid, and support; and regarding their 
subjects' and armies, as the fathers of their fami- 
lies, they will govern them in the spirit of frater- 
nity with which they are animated, for the pro- 
tection of religion, peace and justice. 

4. Art. ii. Therefore, the only governing 
principle between the above mentioned govern- 
ments and their subjects, shall be that of render- 


1 18 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


ing reciprocal services; of testifying by an un- 
alterable beneficence the mutual affection with 
which they ought to be animated ; of considering 
all as only the members of one Christian nation, 
the three allied princes looking upon themselves 
as delegated by Providence to govern three 
branches of the same family ; to wit : Austria, 
Prussia, and Russia. 

5. Confessing likewise that the Christian na- 
tion, of which they and their people form a part, 
have really no other sovereign than Him, to whom 
alone power belongs of right, because in him 
alone are found all the treasures ol love, of sci 
ence and of wisdom ; that is to say, God our Di- 
vine Saviour Jesus Christ, the word of the Most. 
High, the word of life. Their Majesties there- 
fore recommend, with the most tender solicitude , 
to their people, as the only means of enjoying 
that peace which springs from a good conscience, 
and which alone is durable, to fortify themselves 
every day more and more in the principles and 
exercise of the duties, which the divine Saviour 
has pointed out to us. 

6. Art. iii. All powers which wish solemnly 
to profess the sacred principles which have dic- 
tated this act, and who shall acknowledge how 
important it is to the happiness of nations, too 
long disturbed, that these truths shall henceforth 
exercise upon human destinies, all the influence 
which belongs to them, shall be received with 
as much readiness as affection, into this holy al- 
liance. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


119 


7. Made tripartite, and signed at Paris, in the 
year of our Lord, 1815, on the 14th (2 6) of Sep* 
tember. 

Francis, Frederic William, Alexander. 
A true copy of the original. — Alexander. 

St. Petersburg , the day of the birth of our Sa- 
viour the 2 5th of December , 1815. 


Speeches on Infidelity. 

CONCISE HISTORY OF FRENCH INFIDELITY. 

From Dr. Dwight’s Sermon on the public Fast, July 23, 
1812. 

1. About the year 1728, the great era of Infi- 
delity, Voltaire formed a set design to destroy the 
Christian religion. For this purpose he engaged, 
at several succeeding periods, a number of men, 
distinguished for power, talents, reputation, and 
influence ; all deadly enemies to the Gospel ; 
atheists ; men of profligate principles, and profli- 
gate lives. 

2. They inserted themselves into every place, 
office, and employment, in which their agency 
might become efficacious, and which furnished 
an opportunity of spreading their corruptions. 
They were fount! in every literary institution from 
the Abecedarian school, to the Academy of Sci- 


120 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


ences ; and in every civil office, from that of the 
bailiff, to that of the monarch. 

3. With a diligence, courage, constancy, active 
ity, and perseverance, which might rival the ef- 
forts of demons themselves, they penetrated into 
every corner of human society. Scarcely a man, 
woman, or child, was left unassailed, wherever 
there was a single hope, that the attack might be 
successful. 

4. Books were written, and published, in innu- 
merable multitudes, in which infidelity was 
brought down to the level of peasants, and even of 
children ; and poured with immense assiduity 
into the cottage, and the school. Others of a su- 
perior kind, crept into the shop, and the farm- 
house ; and others of a still higher class, found 
their way to the drawing room, the university, and 
the palace. 

5. A sensual, profligate nobility, and princes, 
if possible still more sensual and profligate, ea- 
sily yielded themselves, and their children, into 
the hands of these minions of corruption. 

6. With these was combined a priesthood,, 
which, in all its dignified ranks, was still more 
putrid ; and which eagerly yielded up the sur- 
plice and the lawn, the desk and the altar, to de- 
stroy that Bible, which they had vowed to defend, 
as well as to preach ; and to renew the crucifix- 
ion of that Redeemer, whom they had sworn to 
worship. 

7 . By these agents, and these efforts, the 
plague was spread with a rapidity, and to an ex- 
tent, which astonished heaven and earth ; and life 
went out, not in solitary cases, but by an universal 
extinction 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


121 


BRIEF ACCOUNT OF ILLUMINISM. 

From the Same. 

1. The Illuminees were Atheists, who, pre- 
vious to the French revolution, were secretly as- 
sociated in every part of Europe, with, the view 
of destroying religion, and of engrossing to them- 
selves the government of mankind. Dr. Adam 
Weishaupt, Professor of the Canon Law, in the 
University of Ingoldstadt in Bavaria, established 
the Society of Illuminees. 

2. They were distinguished beyond every other 
class of men, for cunning, mischief, an absolute 
destitution of conscience, an absolute disregard of 
all the interests of man, and a torpid insensibility 
to moral obligation, No fraternity, for so long a 
time, or to so great an extent, united within its 
pale such a mass of talents ; or employed in its 
service such a succession of vigorous efforts. 

3. Their doctrines were, that God is nothing ; 
that, government is a curse , and authority an us- 
ur/iation ; that civil society is the only apostasy 
of man ; that the possession of property is rob* 
bery ; that chastity and natural ajfection, are mere 
prejudices ; and that adultery , assassination , 
poisoning , and other crimes of a similar nature , are 
lawful , and even virtuous. 

4. Societies holding these abominable doctrines 
spread with a rapidity, which nothing but fact 
could have induced any sober mind to believe. 
Before the year 1786, they were established in 
great numbers throughout Germany , in Sweden , 
Russia , Poland, Austria , Holland , France , Switz 


122 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


crland , Italy , England , Scotland, and even in 
America . 

5. Voltaire died in the year following the es- 
tablishment of Illuminism. His disciples with 
one heart, and one voice, united in its interests ; 
and, finding a more absolute system of corruption 
than themselves had been able to form, entered 
eagerly into all its plans and purposes. Thence 
forward, therefore, all the legions of infidelity 
were embarked in a single bottom ; and cruised 
together against order, peace, and virtue. When 
then the French revolution burst upon mankind, 
an ample field was opened for the labors of these 
abandoned men. 

6. Had not God taken the wine in their own 
craftiness , and caused the wicked to fall into the 
jxit which they digged , and into the snares which 
their hands had set ; it is impossible to conjec- 
ture the extent to which they would have carried 
their devastation of human happiness. But, like 
the profligate rulers of Israel, those who succeed- 
ed, regularly destroyed their predecessors. 

7. The spirit of infidelity has the heart of a 
wolf, the fangs of a tiger, and the talons of a vul- 
ture. Blood is its proper nourishment : and it 
scents its prey with the nerves of a hound, and 
cowers over a field of death on the sooty pinions 
of a fiend. Unlike all other animals of prey, it 
feeds upon its own kind ; and, when glutted with 
the blood of others, turns back upon those, who 
have been its coadjutors. 

8. Between ninety and one hundred of those, 
who were leaders in this mighty work of de- 
struction, fell by the hand of violence. Enemies 
to all men, they were of course energies to each 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


123 


other. Butchers of the human race, they soon 
whetted the knife for each other’s throats : and 
the tremendous Being, who rules the universe, 
whose existence they had denied in a solemn act 
of legislation, whose perfections they had made 
the butt of public scorn and private insult, whose 
Son they had crucified afresh, and whose word 
they had burnt by the hands of the common hang- 
man ; swept them all by the hand of violence in- 
to an untimely grave. 

9. The tale made every ear , which heard it, 
tingle , and every heart chill with horror. It was, 
in the language of Ossian, u the song of death .” 
It was like the reign of the plague in a populous 
city. Knell tolled upon knell ; hearse followed 
hearse ; and coffin rumbled after coffin ; without 
a mourner to shed a tear upon the corpse, or a 
so litaryattendant to mark the place of the grave. 
From one new moon to another, and from one sab- 
bath to another, the world went forth and looked 
after the carcasses of the men, who transgressed 
against God ; and they were an abhorring unto 
all flesh. 


THE PUNISHMENT OF AN INFIDEL NATION# 
From a Sermon of Rev. It. Hall. 

1 . The scenes which have lately been present- 
ed to you furnish the most awful and momentous 
instruction. From them you will learn, that the 
safety of nations is not to be sought in arts or in 
arms ; that science may flourish amidst the decay 
of humanity; that the utmost barbarity may be 


124 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


blended with the utmost refinement ; that a pas* 
sion for speculation, unrestrained by the fear of 
God and a deep sense of human imperfection, 
merely hardens the heart: and that as religion, in 
short, is the great tamer of the breast, the source 
of tranquillity and order, so the crimes of volup- 
tuousness and impiety inevitably conduct a people, 
before they are aware, to the brink of desolation 
and anarchy. 

2. If you had wished to figure to yourselves a 
country which had reached the utmost pinnacle of 
prosperity, you would undoubtedly have turned 
your eyes to France, as she appeared a few years 
before the revolution ; illustrious in learning and 
genius ; the favourite abode of the arts, and the 
mirror of fashion, whither the flower of the no- 
bility from all countries resorted, to acquire the 
last polish of which the human character is sus- 
ceptible. 

3. Lulled in voluptuous repose, and dreaming of 
a philosophical millennium, without dependance 
upon God, like the generation before the flood, 
they ate , they drank , they married , they were given 
in marriage. In that exuberant soil every thing 
seemed to flourish, but religion and virtue. 

4. The season, however, was at length arrived, 
when God was resolved to punish their impiety, as 
•well as to avenge the blood of his servants, whose 
souls had for a century been incessantly crying to 
him from under the altar. And* what method did 
he employ for this purpose ? When he to whom 
vengeance belongs, when he whose ways are un- 
searchable, and whose wisdom is inexhaustible, 
proceeded to the execution of this strange work, 
he drew from his treasures a weapon he had nev- 
er employed before. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


125 


5. Resolving to make their punishment as sig- 
nal as their crimes, he neither let loose an inun- 
dation of barbarous nations, nor the desolating 
powers of the universe : he neither overwhelmed 
them with earthquakes, nor visited them with pes- 
tilence. He summoned from among themselves 
a ferocity more terrible than either ; a ferocity 
which, mingling in the struggle for liberty, and 
borrowing aid from that very refinement to which 
it seemed to be opposed, turned every man’s hand 
against his neighbour, and sparing no age, nor 
sejt, nor rank, till satiated with the ruin of great- 
ness, the distresses of innocence, and the tears of 
beauty, it terminated its career in the most unre- 
lenting despotism. 

6. Thou art righteous , O Lord , which art , and 
which was , and which shall be, because thou hast 
judged thus, for they have shed the blood of saints 
and firofihets, and thou hast given them blood to 
drink, for they are worthy . 


THE FOLLY OF INFIDELITY. 

From l)r. Dwight’s Sermon at the Ordination of 
Mr Taylor. 181‘2. 

]. Educated infidels covet the character of 
men of taste ; and boast of possessing it in a su- 
perior degree, The primary objects of taste are 
novelty, grandeur, beauty and benevolence. The 
three former are extensively diffused over the 
natural world ; the moral world is replenished 
with them all. 


126 THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 

2. The beauty and grandeur of the natural 
world ; the beauty of the landscape, and of the 
sky ; the grandeur of the storm, the torrent, the 
thunder, and the volcano ; the magnificence of 
mountains, and the ocean ; and the sublimities of 
the heavens ; may undoubtedly be relished by the 
mind of an infidel, as really as by that of a Chris- 
tian. But how insignificant are even these 
splendid scenes of nature, if the universe is only 
a lifeless mass ; a corpse devoid of an animating 
principle ? 

3. How changed is the scene ; how enhanced 
the sublimity ; when our thoughts discern, that 
an infinite Mind formed, preserves, controls, and 
quickens, the whole ; that this mind is every 
where present ; lives, sees, acts ; directs, and 
blesses the beings, whom it has made ; that, if we 
ascend into hcaven> God is there ; if we go down 
to hell , lo. He is there ! if we take the wings of 
the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of 
the sea ; even there his hand will lead us , and his 
right hand hold us. At the same time, how in- 
finitely more sublime is such a Mind, than all the 
works, which it has created ! 

4. In the moral world the loss of the infidel is 
entire. Of the beauty and greatness of that world 
they form no conceptions. For these objects 
their taste is not begun. The pleasures, derived 
from this source, are the privilege only of minds, 
which are invested with moral beauty, and adorn- 
ed with the loveliness of the Gospel. 

5. In the field of intellectual enjoyment they 
are not more happy. Their learning is usually 
roischievious to them ; and their science, of no 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 127 

value : for both serve only to inflate them with 
pride, and estrange them from their Maker. 

6. What is the world in the eye of an infidel ? 
A product of fate, chance, or necessity ; without 
design ; without government ; without a God : 
its inhabitants born, none knows why ; and des- 
tined to go, none knows whither. 

7. Of duty, virtue, worship, acceptance with 
God, and the rewards of obedience, they know, 
and choose to know, nothing. To them the 
moral universe is a chaos. The Gospel, looking 
on this mass of confusion, has said, “ Let there be 
light and there is light . 


CHRISTIANITY CONTRASTED WTTH INFIDELITY. 

From It. Hall’s Sermon on Infidelity. 1800. 

1. Religion being primarily intended to make 
men wise unto salvation , the support it ministers 
to social order, the stability it confers on govern- 
ment and laws, is a subordinate sficcies of advan- 
tage, which we should have continued to enjoy 
without reflecting on its cause, but for the de- 
velopment of deistical principles, and the experi- 
ment which has been made of their effects in a 
neighboring country.* 

2. It had been the constant boast of infidels, 
that their system, more liberal and generous than 
Christianity, needed but to be tried, to produce an 


* France. 

H 


128 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


immense accession to human happiness ; and 
Christian nations, careless and supine, retaining 
little of religion but the profession, and disgusted 
with its restraints, lent a favourable ear to these 
pretensions. 

3. God permitted the trial to be made : in one 
country, and that the centre of Christendom ; 
revelation underwent a total eclipse,* while athe- 
ism, performing on a darkened theatre its strange 
and fearful tragedy, confounded the first elements 
of society, blended every age, rank and sex, in 
indiscriminate proscription and massacre, and 
convulsed all Europe to its centre : that the im- 
perishable memorial of these events might teach 
the last generations of mankind, to consider re- 
ligion as the pillar of society, the safeguard of 
nations, the parent of social order, which alone 
has power to curb the fury of the passions, and 
secure to every one his rights ; to the laborious, 
the reward of their industry, to the rich, the en- 
joyment of their wealth, to nobles, the preserva- 
tion of their honors, and to princes, the stability 
of their thrones. 

4. We might ask the patrons of infidelity, what 
fury impels them to attempt the subversion of 
Christianity ? Is it that they have discovered a 
better system ? To what virtues are their princi- 
ples favorable, or is there one which Christians 

* It is worthy of attention that Merrier , a warm advo- 
cate of the French Revolution, and a professed deist, in 
his recent work, entitled “ J\ r ew Paris” acknowledges 
and laments the extinction of religion in France. “ We 
have.*' says he, “ in proscribing superstition destroyed 
all religious sentiment t. .* but this is not the way to regen- 
erate the world.” 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR, 


129 


have not carried to a higher perfection than any 
of whom their party can boast ? Have they dis- 
covered a more excellent rule of life, or a better 
hope in death, than that which the Scriptures 
suggest ? 

5. Above all, what are the pretensions on which 
they rest their claims to be the guides of man- 
kind ; or which embolden them to expect that 
we should trample upon the experience of ages, 
and abandon a religion, which has been attested 
by a train of miracles and prophecies, in which 
millions of our forefathers have found a refuge in 
every trouble, and consolation in the hour of 
death ; a religion which has been adorned with 
the highest sanctity of character and splendor of 
talents, which enrols amongst its disciples the 
names of Bacon, Newton, and Locke, the glory 
of their species, and to which these illustrious men 
were proud to dedicate the last and best fruits of 
their immortal geniu% ? 

6. If the question at issue is to be decided by 
argument, nothing can be added to the triumph 
of Christianity ; if by an appeal to authority, what 
have our adversaries to oppose to these great 
names ? 

7. Where are the infidels of such pure, un- 
contaminatcd morals, unshaken probity, and ex- 
tended benevolence, that we should be in danger 
of being seduced into impiety by their example ? 
Into what obscure recesses of misery, into what 
dungeons, have their philanthropists penetrated 
to lighten the fetters, and relieve the sorrows of 
the helpless captive ? What barbarous tribes have 
their apostles visited, what distant climes have 

H 2 


130 


THE CHRISTIAN" ORATOR. 


they explored, encompassed with cold, naked- 
ness and want, to diffuse principles of virtue and 
the blessings of civilization ? 

8. Or will they rather choose to waive their 
pretensions to this extraordinary, and in their 
eyes, eccentric species of benevolence, (for infi- 
dels, we know, are sworn enemies to enthusiasm 
of every sort) and rest their character on their 
political exploits, on their efforts to reanimate the 
virtue of a sinking state, to restrain licentiousness, 
to calm the tumult of popular fury, and by incul- 
cating the spirit of justice, moderation, and pity 
for fallen greatness, to mitigate the inevitable hor- 
rors of revolution ? Our adversaries will at least 
have the discretion, if not the modesty, to recede 
from this test. 


INFLUENCE OF INFIDELITY ON MORALS. 

From ltev. Robert Hall. 

1. The skeptical or irreligious system sub- 
verts the whole foundation of morals. It may be 
affirmed as a maxim, that no person can be re- 
quired to act contrary to his greatest good, or his 
highest interest, comprehensively viewed in re- 
lation to the whole duration of his being. It is 
often our duty to forego our own interest partially ; 
to sacrifice a smaller pleasure for the sake of a 
greater ; to incur a present evil in pursuit of a 
distant good of more consequence ; in a word, to 
arbitrate, amongst interfering claims of inclina- 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR 


131 


tion, is the moral arithmetic of human life. But 
to risk the happiness of the whole duration of 
our being in any case whatever, admitting it to be 
possible, would be foolish, because the sacrifice 
must, by the nature of it, be so great as to pre- 
clude the possibility of compensation. 

2. As the present world, upon skeptical prin- 
ciples, is the only place of recompense, whenever 
the practice of virtue fails to promise the greatest 
sum of present good, cases which often occur in 
reality, and much oftener in appearance, every 
motive to virtuous conduct is superseded, a de- 
viation from rectitude becomes the part of wis- 
dom ; and should the path of virtue, in addition 
to this, be obstructed by disgrace, torment or 
death, to persevere would be madness and folly, 
and a violation of the first and most essential law 
of nature. Virtue on these principles, being, in 
numberless instances, at war with self preserva- 
tion, never can or ought to become a fixed habit 
on the mind. 

3 The system of infidelity is not only incapa- 
ble of arming virtue for great and trying occa- 
sions, but leaves it unsupported in the most or- 
dinary occurrences. In vain will its advocates 
appeal to a moral sense, to benevolence and sym- 
pathy ; in vain will they expatiate on the tran- 
quillity and pleasure attendant on a virtuous 
course ; for it is undeniable that these impulses 
may be overcome, and though you may remind 
the offender, that in disregarding them he has 
violated his nature, and that a conduct consistent 
with them is productive of much internal satis- 
faction ; yet, if he reply that his taste is of a dif- 


132 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


ferent sort, that there are other gratifications 
which he values more, and that every man must 
choose his own pleasures, the argument is.at an 
end. 

4. Rewards and punishments awarded by Om- 
nipotent Power, afford a palpable and pressing 
motive, which can never be neglected without re- 
nouncing the character of a rational creature ; 
but tastes and relishes are not to be prescribed. 

5. A motive in which the reason of man shall 
acquiesce, enforcing the practice of virtue, at all 
times and seasons, enters into the very essence of 
moral obligation ; modern infidelity supplies no 
such motive ; it is, therefore, essentially and in- 
fallibly, a system of enervation, turpitude and 
vice. 

6. This chasm in the construction of morals, 
can only be supplied by the firm belief of a re- 
warding and avenging Deity, who binds duty and 
happiness, though they may seem distant, in an in- 
dissoluble chain, without which, whatever usurps 
the name of virtue, is not a principle, but a feeling, 
not r>determinate i rule, but a fluctuating expe- 
dient, varying with the tastes of individuals, and 
changing with the scenes of life. 

7. Nor is this the only way in which infidelity 
subverts the foundation of morals. All reasoning 
on morals, pre-supposes a distinction betwixt in- 
clinations and duties, affections and rules : the 
former prompt, the latter prescribe ; the former 
supply motives to action, the latter regulate and 
control it. Hence, it is evident, if virtue has any 
just claim to authority, it must be under the lat- 
ter of these notions, that is, under the character 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


133 


of a law. It is under this notion in fact , that its 
dominion has ever been acknowledged to be para- 
mount and supreme. 

8. But without the intervention of a superior 
will, it is impossible there should be any moral 
laws except in the lax, metaphorical sense, in 
which we speak of the laws of matter and mo- 
tion : men being essentially equal, morality is, 
on these principles, only a stipulation or silent 
compact, into which every man is supposed to 
enter, as far as suits his convenience, and for the 
breach of which he is accountable to nothing but 
his own mind. His own mind is his law, his 
tribunal and his judge. 


STATE OF FRANCE AT THE COMMENCEMENT OF 
HER REVOLUTION, 1794. 

From Obeirne’s Fast Sermon. 

1. From the day that the spirit of innovation 
first seized and put in motion the great mass of 
the people, all that was base, profligate, and 
vicious amongst them, has been rapidly working 
up to the suppression of whatever was left of re- 
ligion, virtue, honor, justice, or equity, yet un- 
corrupt and untainted. 

2. Instead of those grave and solemn delibera- 
tions, those dignified and energetic councils, those 
cool, steady, and magnanimous exertions that 
have distinguished such revolutions as have given 
freedom, with all its blessings, to an oppressed 

h 4 


13* 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


people, all the mean passions, and sordid pro- 
pensities of our degenerate nature, were immedi- 
ately brought into alliance with the usurping pow- 
er. The reins were instantly thrown loose to 
licentiousness, and the very dregs of the people 
brought forward, as the only instruments that 
could be employed with effect in such a cause. 

3. All authority was declared to be an usurpa- 
tion on their rights — all subordination was shivery, 
all distinctions of condition, and all difference in 
property, whether acquired by honest industry, 
or inherited from wise and prudent ancestors, 
was represented as an unjust encroachment on 
that equality which nature had established be-' 
tween man and man. 

4. In the dreadful excesses which such doc- 
trines naturally invited, the government itself 
took the most active part. It became an accom- 
plice in all the horrors, which, it has been hither- 
to the object of all governments to prevent. Every 
new regulation provided for disorder — Every 
new decree was an enforcement of violence, ra- 
pine and murder. 

5. To the daggers of the assassins, and the 
pikes of the sanguinary banditti, who appeared to 
be satiated with the summary acts of justice , that 
had so long deluged the streets of Paris with the 
blood of innocent victims, were substituted a le- 
galised massacre, the inexorable sentence of the 
revolutionary tribunal, and the terrors of that lata! 
instrument of execution,* that never knows rest,, 
that never admits reprieve. 


* The GuiUoliae. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


135 


6. Atheism was proclaimed to be seated on the 
altars of religion. Under its tutelary protection 
their empire, like that of ancient Rome, was to 
know no limits of territory or of time. 

7. The faith of Jesus Christ, with all its mild 
and humane injunctions, with all its charities, and 
all its salutary provisions for the order, peace, 
and tranquillity of society, was denounced as a 
system unworthy of the ardent, daring, anti un- 
controllable spirit that inflamed the legislators of 
France. In their infidelity they triumphed over 
its doctrines — in their practice they violated its 
duties — in the plunder of its churches they grati- 
fied their rapacious avarice — and in the massacre 
of its ministers they satisfied their thirst for 
blood. 

8. In the course of these increasing disorders, 
the unhappy nation became a prey to a succession 
of tyrants, each supplanting the other, as from 
his character, his habits, or his profession, he ap- 
peared best qualified to act a part on the horrid 
scene. The accession of every individual to the 
confederacy of power, was marked by a nearer 
approach to the extremes of oppression, cruelty 
and intolerance ; and in this race of insatiable, 
shameless, remorseless ambition, the most for- 
ward and daring of their own accomplices rushed 
to their ruin. 

9. The executioner of one day became the 
criminal of the next ; and, O ! the inscrutable- 
ness of the divine justice ! the advisers and actors 
in the murder of their injured sovereign, were, 
in their turn, denied, by their own confederates, 
that mercy, which they had themselves denied to 

h 5 


136 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR 


him. They clashed with the private designs of 
some new conspirator ; and meeting the fate of 
the impious and cruel Jezebel, where dogs licked 
the blood of their innocent victim, dogs , in a few 
days, licked their blood. 


Speeches on Education. 

ADVANTAGES OF KNOWLEDGE. 

From Rev. R. Hall’s Sermon, “ Advantage of knowledge 
to the lower classes.” 1810 . 

1. Knowledge in general expands the mind, 
exalts the faculties, refines the taste of pleasure,' 
and opens innumerable sources of intellectuallen- 
joyment. 

2. By means of it, we become less dependent 
for satisfaction upon the sensitive appetites ; the 
gross pleasures of sense are more easily despised, 
and we are made to feel the superiority of the 
spiritual to the material part of our nature. In- 
stead of being continually solicited by the influ- 
ence and irritation of sensible objects, the mind 
can retire within herself, and expatiate in the cool 
and quiet walks of contemplation. 

3. The poor man who can read, and who pos- 
sesses a taste for reading, can find entertainment at 
home, without being tempted to repair to the pub- 
lick house for that purpose. His mind can find 
him employment when his body is at rest ; he 
does not He prostrate and afloat on the current 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 1S7 

of incidents, liable to be carried whithersoever the 
impulse of appetite may direct. 

4. There is in the mind of such a man an in- 
tellectual spring urging him to the pursuit of 
mental good ; and if the minds of his family also 
are a little cultivated, conversation becomes the 
more interesting, and the sphere of domestic en- 
joyment enlarged. 

5. The calm satisfaction which boohs afford, 
puts him into a disposition to relish more exquis- 
itely, the tranquil delight inseparable from the 
indulgence of conjugal and parental affection : 
and as he will be more respectable in the eyes of 
his family than he who can teach them nothing, 
he will be naturally induced to cultivate whatever 
may preserve, and shun whatever would impair 
that respect. 

6. He who is inured to reflection will carry his 
views beyond the present hour; he will extend 
his prospect a little into futurity, and be disposed 
to make some provision for his approaching 
•wants ; whence will result an increased motive 
to industry, together with a care to husband his 
warnings, and to avoid unnecessary expense. 

7. The poor man who has gained a taste for 
good books, will in all likelihood become thought- 
ful, and when you have given the poor a habit of 
thinking, you have conferred on them a much 
greater favor than by the gift of a large sum of 
money, since you have put them in possession 
ef the principle of all legitimate prosperity. 


138 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


OBJECTIONS TO THE EDUCATION OF THE F00R 
ANSWERED. 

From the Same. 

1. Some have objected to the instruction of the 
lower classes, from an apprehension that it would 
lift them above their sphere, make them dissatis- 
fied with their station in life, and by impairing the 
habit of subordination, endanger the tranquillity 
of the state ; an objection devoid surely of all 
force and validity. 

2. It is not easy to conceive in what manner 
instructing men in their duties can prompt them 
to neglect those duties, or how that enlargement 
of reason which enables them to comprehend the 
true grounds of authority and the obligation to 
obedience, should indispose them to obey. 

3. Nothing in reality renders legitimate govern- 
ment so insecure as extreme ignorance in the 
people. It is this which yields them an easy prey 
to seduction, makes them the victims of pre- 
judice and false alarms, and so ferocious withal, 
that their interference in a time of public com- 
motion, is more to be dreaded than the eruption 
of a volcano. 

4. Look at the popular insurrections and mas- 
sacres in France : of what description of persons 
were those ruffians composed who, breaking forth 
like a torrent, overwhelmed the mounds of lawful 
authority ? Who were the cannibals that sported 
with the mangled carcasses and palpitating limbs 
of their murdered victims, and dragged them 
about with their teeth in the gardens of the Thud- 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR 


139 


leiies ; Were they refined and elaborated into 
these barbarities by the efforts of a too polished 
education ? No: they were the very scum of the 
populace, destitute of all moral culture, whose 
atrocity was only equalled by their ignorance. 

5. Who are the persons who, in every country, 
are most disposed to outrage and violence, but 
the most ignorant and uneducated of the poor ? 
to which class also chiefly belong those unhappy 
beings who are doomed to expiate their crimes at 
the fatal tree ; few of whom, it has recently been 
ascertained, on accurate inquiry, are able to read, 
and the greater part utterly destitute of all moral 
or religious principle. 


EVILS OF IGNORANCE. 

From the same. 

1. Ignorance gives a sort of extremity to pre- 
judice, and perpetuity to error. When a baleful 
superstition, like, that of the church of Rome, has 
once got footing among a people in this situation, 
it becomes next to impossible to eradicate it : for 
it can only be assailed, with success, by the weap- 
ons of reason and argument, and to these weapons 
it is impassive. The sword of ethereal temper 
loses its edge, when tried on the scaly hide of this 
leviathan. 

2. No wonder the church of Rome is such a 
friend to ignorance ; it is but paying the arrears 
of gratitude in which she is deeply indebted. How 
is it possible for her not to hate that light which 


/40 THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 

would unveil her impostures, and detect her 
enormities ? 

3. If* we survey the genius of Christianity, we 
shall find it to be just the reverse. It was usher- 
ed into the world with the injunction, go and teach 
all nations , and every step of its progress is to be 
ascribed to instruction. 

4. At the reformation, the progress of the re- 
formed faith went hand in hand with the advance- 
ment of letters ; it had every where the same 
friends and the same enemies, and next to its a- 
greement with the holy Scriptures, its success is 
chiefly to be ascribed, under God, to the art of 
printing, the revival of classical learning, and the 
illustrious patrons of science attached to its cause. 

5. In the representation of that glorious period, 
usually styled the Millennium, when religion shall 
universally prevail, it is mentioned as a conspic- 
uous feature,' that men shall run to a?icl fro , and 
knowledge shall be increased. That period will 
not be distinguished from the preceding, by men’s 
minds being more torpid and inactive, but rather 
by the consecration of every power to the service 
of the Most High. 

6. It will be a period of remarkable illumina- 
tion, during which the light of the moon shall be 
as the light of the sun , and the light of the sun as 
that of seven days. Every useful talent will be 
cultivated, every heart, subservient to the interests 
of man, be improved and perfected ; learning will 
amass her stores, and genius emit her splendor ; 
but the former will be displayed without ostenta- 
tion, and the latter shine with the softened efful- 
gence of humility and love. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


141 


Speeches on the Slave Trade. 

EXTRACTS FROM MR. WILBERFORCE’s SPEECH. 

Delivered on the 2d of April, 1792, in the House of Com- 
mons, on a motion for the Abolition of the Slave Trade. 


1. Would you be acquainted with the charac- 
ter of the Slave Trade — look to the continent of 
Africa, and there you will behold such a scene of 
horrors as no tongue can express, no imagination 
can represent to itself. One mode adopted by the 
petty chieftains of that country to supply our 
traders with slaves is, that of committing depre- 
dations upon each other’s territories : This cir- 
cumstance gives a peculiar character to the wars 
in Africa. They are predatory expeditions, of 
which the chief object is the acquisition of slaves. 

2. But this, Sir, is the lightest of the evils 
Africa suffers from the Slave Trade. Still more 
intolerable are those acts of outrage which we are 
continually stimulating the kings to commit on 
their own subjects. Instead of the guardians and 
protectors, those kings have been made, through 
our instrumentality, the despoilers and ravagers 
of their people. 

3. A chieftain is in want of European com- 
modities. He sends a party of soldiers by night 
to one of his own defenceless villages. They set 
fire to it ; they seize the miserable inhabitants as 
they are flying from the flames, and hurry with 
them to the ships of the Christian traders, who, 


142 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR 


hovering like vultures over these scenes of car- 
nage, are ever ready for their prey. 

4. Nor is it only by the chieftains that these 
disorders are committed ; every one’s hand is 
against his neighbor. Whithersoever a man goes, 
be it to the watering-place, or to the field, he is not 
safe. He never can quit his house without fear of 
being carried off by fraud or force ; and he dreads 
to come home again, lest on his return, he should 
find his hut a heap of ruins, and his family torn 
away into perpetual exile. Distrust and terror 
every where prevail, and the whole country is one 
continued scene of anarchy and desolation. 

5. But this is not all. No means of procur- 
ing slaves, is left untouched. Even the adminis- 
tration of justice itself is made a fertile source of 
supply to this inhuman traffick. Every crime is 
punished by slavery ; and false accusations are 
continually brought, in order to obtain the price 
for which the criminal is sold. Sometimes the 
judges have a considerable part of this very price. 
Every man, therefore, is stimulated to bring an 
action against his neighbor. 

6. But these evils, terrible as they are, do not 
equal those which are endured on board ship, or 
in what is commonly called the middle Jiassage. 
The mortality during this period is excessive. 
The slaves labor under a fixed dejection and 
melancholy, interrupted now and then by lamen- 
tations and plaintive songs, expressive of their 
concern for their relations and friends and native 
country. 

7. Many attempt to drown themselves ; others 
obstinately refuse to take sustenance ; and when 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR 


431 


the whip and other violent means have been used 
to compel them to eat, they have sometimes look- 
ed up in the face of the officer who executed his 
task, and console themselves by saying, in their 
own language, “ presently we shall be no more.” 

8. O, Sir ! are not these things too bad to be any 
longer endured ? I cannot but persuade myself 
that whatever difference of opinion there may have 
been, we shall be this night at length unanimous. 
I cannot believe that a British House of Com- 
mons will give its sanction to the continuance of 
this infernal traffick. Never was there, indeed, a 
system so big with wickedness and cruelty. To 
whatever part of it you direct your view, the eye 
finds no relief. 

9. It is the gracious ordinance of Providence, 
both in the natural and moral world, that good 
should often arise out of evil. Hurricanes clear 
the air, and persecution promotes the propagation 
of the truth. Pride, vanity, and profusion, in their 
remoter consequences contribute often to the hap- 
piness of mankind. Even those classes of men 
that may seem most noxious have some virtues. 
The Arab is hospitable, The robber is brave. 

•We do not necessarily find cruelty associated with 
fraud, or meanness with injustice. 

10. But here it is otherwise. It is the preroga- 
tive of this detested traffick to separate from evil 
its concomitant good, and reconcile discordant 
mischiefs ; it robs war of its generosity ; it de- 
prives peace of its security. You have the vices 
of polished society without its knowledge or its 
comforts ; and the evils of barbarism without its 
simplicity. 


144 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


11. No age, sex or rank is exempt from the in- 
fluence of this wiae-wasting calamity. It attains 
to the fullest measure of pure, unmixed wicked- 
ness ; and scorning all competition or comparison, 
it stands in the undisputed possession of its detest- 
able pre-eminence. 


MR. PITT*S SPEECH. 

Delivered on the same occasion with the preceding;. 

PART 1. 

1. Sir, I now come to Africa. That is the 
ground on which I rest ; and here it is, that I say 
my right honorable friends* do not carry their 
principles to their full extent. 

2. Why ought the slave trade to be abolished ? 
because it is incurable injustice. How much 
stronger then is the argument for immediate, than 
gradual abolition ! by allowing it to continue even 
for one hour, do not my right honorable friends 
weaken — do not they desert, their own argument 
of its injustice ? If on the ground of injustice it 
ought to be abolished at last, why ought it not 
now ? Why is injustice suffered to remain for a 
single hour ? 

3. From what I hear without doors, it is evident 
that there is a general conviction entertained of its 
being far from just, and from that very conviction 
of its injustice, some men have been led, I fear, 

* Mr. Dundas, now lord Melville ; Mr. Addington, 
now lord Sidmouth. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOU 


145 


to the supposition, that the Slave Trade never 
cou’d have been permitted to begin, but from 
some strong and irresistible necessity ; a neces- 
sity, however, which, if it was fancied to exist 
at first, I have shown cannot be thought by any 
man whatever to exist now. 

4 This plea of necessity, thus presumed, and 
presumed as I suspect, from the circumstance 
of injustice itself, has caused a sort of acqui- 
escence in the continuance of this evil. Men 
have been led to place it among the rank of 
those necessary evils , which are supposed to be 
the lot of human creatures, and to be permitted 
to fall upon some countries or individuals, rather 
than upon others, by that Being, whose ways 
are inscrutable to us, and whose dispensations, 
it is conceived, we ought not to look into. 

5. The origin of evil is indeed a subject be- 
yond the reach of human understandings; and 
the permission of it by the Supreme Being, is a 
subject into which it belongs not to us to inquire. 
But where the evil in question is a moral evil, 
which a man can scrutinize, and where that 
moral evil has its origin with ourselves , let us 
not imagine that we can clear our consciences 
by this general, not to say irreligious and impi- 
ous way of laying aside the question. 

6. If we reflect at all on this subject, we must 
see that every necessary evil supposes that some 
other and greater ev\\ would be incurred were it 
removed : I therefore desire to ask, what can 
be that greater evil, which can be stated to over- 
balance the one in question ?— / know of no evil 

i 


146 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


that ever has existed) nor can imagine any evil 
to exists worse than the tearing eighty thou- 
sand persons annually from their native land , by 
a combination of the most civilized nations , in the 
most enlightened quarter of the globe ; but more 
especially by that nation which calls herself the 
most free and most happy of them all. 


PART II. 

1. Think of Eighty Thousand persons car- 
ried away out of their country, by we know not 
what means; for crimes imputed ; for light or 
inconsiderable faults; for debt perhaps; for 
the crime of witchcraft, or a thousand other 
weak and scandalous pretexts. Think on all 
the fraud and kidnapping, the villanies and per- 
fidity, by which the Slave Trade is supplied. 
Reflect on these eighty thousand persons thus 
annually taken off. There is something in the 
horror of it that surpasses all imagination. 

2. But that country, it is said, has been in some 
degree civilized, and civilized by us It is said 
they have gained some knowledge of the prin- 
ciples of justice* What, sir, have they gained 
principles of justice from us ? Is their civiliza- 
tion brought about by us ? 

3. Yes, we give them enough of our inter- 
course to convey to them the means, and to in- 
itiate them in the study of mutual destruction. 
We give them just enough of the forms of jus- 
tice to enable them to add the pretext of legal 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 147 

trials to their other modes of perpetrating the 
most atrocious iniquity. We give them just 
enough of European improvements to enabie 
them the more effectually to turn Africa into a 
ravaged wilderness. 

4. But I refrain from enumerating half the 
dreadful consequences of this system. Do 
you think nothing of the ruin and the miseries 
in which so many other individuals, still remain- 
ing in Africa, are involved in consequence of 
carrying off so many myriads of people ? Do 
you think nothing of their families which are 
left behind ; of the connexions which are 
broken ; of the friendships, attachments, and 
relationships that are burst asunder ? 

5. What do you yet know of the internal state 
of Africa ? You have carried on a trade to that 
quarter of the globe from this civilized and en- 
lightened country ; but such a trade that, in- 
stead of diffusing either knowledge or wealth, 
it has been the check to every laudable pursuit. 
Long as that continent has been known to navi- 
gators, the extreme line and boundaries of its 
coasts is all with which Europe is yet acquaint- 
ed. 

6. As to the whole interior of that continent 
you are by your own principles of commerce 
entirely shut out. Africa is known to you only 
in its skirts. Yet even there you are able to in- 
fuse a poison that spreads it contagious effects 
from one end of it to the other ; which pene- 
trates to its very centre, corrupting every part 
which it reaches. You there subvert the whole 

i 2 


148 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


order of nature ; you aggravate every natural 
barbarity, and furnish to every man living on 
that continent, motives for committing, under 
the name and pretext of commerce, acts cf per- 
petual violence and perfidy against his neigh- 
bor. 

7. Thus, Sir, has the perversion of British 
commerce carried misery to one whole quarter 
of the globe. How shall we ever repair this 
mischief? IIow shall we obtain forgiveness 
from Heaven if we refuse to use the means re- 
served to us for wiping away the guilt and shame 
with which we are now covered ? 

8. If we refuse even now to put a stop to 
them, how greatly aggravated will be our guilt. 
What a blot will these transactions forever be 
in the history of this country 1 Shall we then 
delay to repair these injuries? Shall we not 
rather count the days and hours that are suffer- 
ed to intervene and to delay the accomplish- 
ment of such a work ? 


TART TIT. 

1. There w r as a time, Sir, when even human 
sacrifices are said to have been offered in this 
island. Nay, the very practice of the Slave 
Trade once prevailed among us. Slaves were 
formerly an established article of our exports. 
Great numbers were exported like cattle from 
the British coast, and were to be seen exposed 
for sale in the Roman market. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


14S 


2. Now, Sir, it is alledged that Africa labors 
under a natural incapacity for civilization, that 
it is enthusiasm and fanaticism to think that she 
can ever enjoy the knowledge and the morals 
of Europe ; that Providence never intended 
her to rise above a state of barbarism. Allow 
of this principle, as applied to Africa, and I 
should be glad to know, why it might not also 
have been applied to ancient and uncivilized 
Britain ? 

3. Why might not some Roman Senator, 
reasoning on the principles of the honorable 
gentlemen, and pointing to British barbarians, 
have predicted with equal boldness, “ there is a 
people that will never rise to civilization — there 
is a people never destined to be free — a people 
without the understanding necessary for the at- 
tainment of useful arts ; depressed by the hand 
of nature below the level of the human species ; 
and created to form a supply of slaves for the 
rest of the -world.” Might not this have been 
said, according to the principles, which we now 
hear stated in all respects as fairly and as truly 
of Britain herself at that period of her history, 
as it can now be said by us of the inhabitants of 
Africa ? 

4. We, Sir, have long since emerged from 
barbarism. We have almost forgotten that we 
were once barbarians. Yet we were once as ob- 
scure among the nations of the earth, as savage 
in our manners, as debased in our morals, as 
degraded in our understandings, as these unhap- 
py Africans are at present. But in the lapse of 


150 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


a long series of years, by a progression slow, 
and for a time, almost imperceptible, we have 
become rich in a variety of acquirements, un- 
rivalled in commerce, pre eminent in arts, 
foremost in the pursuits of philosophy and sci- 
ence, and established in all the blessings of civil 
society. 

5. We are in the possession of peace, of hap- 
piness, and of liberty. We are under the gui- 
dance of a mild and beneficent religion ; and we 
are protected by impartial laws, and the purest 
administration of justice. From all these bles- 
sings we must forever have been shut out, had 
there been any truth in those principles which 
some gentlemen have not hesitated to lay down 
as applicable to Africa. Ages might have 
passed without our emerging from barbarism ; 
we might at this hour have been little superior 
either in morals, in knowledge, or refinement 
to the rude inhabitants of Guinea. 

6. L trust we shall no longer continue this 
commerce, to the destruction of every improve- 
ment on that wide continent. If we listen to 
the voice of reason and duty, and pursue this 
night the lino of conduct which they prescribe, 
some of us may live to see a reverse of that pic- 
ture, from which we now turn our eyes with 
shame and regret 

7. We may live to behold the natives of Afri- 
ca, engaged in the calm occupations of industry, 
in the pursuits of a just and legitimate com- 
merce. W e may behold the beams of science 
and pnilosophy breaking in upon their land, 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


15 i 


which at some happy period in still later times, 
may blaze with full lustre ; and joining their 
influence to that of pure religion, may illumi- 
nate and invigorate the most distant extremities 
of that immense continent. 

8 Then may we hope that even Africa, 
though last of all the quarters of the globe, 
shall enjoy at length in the evening of her days 
those blessings, which have descended so plen- 
tifully upon us in a much earlier period of the 
world. 


MR. FOX’S SPEECH. 

On the same occasion with the preceding. 

PART T. 

1. The honorable gentlemen call themselves 
moderate men ; but upon the subject of the 
Slave Trade, I confess, I neither feel, nor desire 
to feel, any thing like moderation. Sir, to talk 
of moderation upon this matter, reminds me of 
a passage in Middleton’s Life of Cicero. He 
says, ‘ k to enter a man’s house and kill him, his 
wife, and family, in the night, is certainly a 
most heinous crime, and deserving of death. 
But to break open his house, to murder h 5 m. his 
wife and all his children, in the night, may still be 
very right, provided it is done with' modera- 
tion” 

t 4 


52 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


2. This is absurd, it will be said ; and yet, sir, 
it is not so absurd as to say, the Slave trade may 
be carried on with moderation. For if you can- 
not break into a single house, if you cannot rob 
and murder a single man, with moderation ; with 
what moderation can you break up a whole coun- 
try — can you pillage and destroy a whole nation ? 
Indeed — indeed, Sir, in an affair of this Aature, I 
do not profess moderation ! I could never think 
of this abolition, but as a question of simple jus- 
tice. 

3. I will suppose, that the West-India islands 
are likely to want slaves, on account of the dis- 
proportion of the sexes. How is this to be 
cured ? A right honorable gentleman proposes a 
bounty on an importation of females : or in other 
words, he proposes to make up this deficiency, 
by offering a premium to any crew of unprinci- 
pled and savage ruffians, who will attack and 
carry off any of the females of Africa ! a bounty 
from the parliament of Britain that shall make 
the fortune of any man, or set of men, who shall 
kidnap or steal, any unfortunate females from 
that continent ! who shall kill their husbands, 
fathers or relations, or shall instigate any others 
to kill them, in order that these females may be 
procured ! 

4. I should like to see the right honorable 
gentleman bring up such a clause. I should like 
to see how his clause would be worded. I should 
like to know, who is the man that would pen such 
a clause. For my part, I complain of the whole 
system on which this trade is founded. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR* 153 

5. The mode too, by which the honorable gentle- 
man proposes to abolish slavery in the West-In- 
dies, is not a little curious. First of all, the chil- 
dren are to be born free ; then to be educated at 
the expense of those to whom the father belongs. 
The race of future freemen, he says, shall not be 
without education, like the present miserable 
slaves. But then it occurred to the right honor- 
able gentleman, that they could not be educated 
for nothing. In order therefore, to repay this ex- 
pense, says he, when educated, they shall be 
slaves for ten or fifteen years ; and so we will 
get over that difficulty. 

6. They are to have the education of a free- 
man, in order to qualify them for being free : and 
after they have been so educated, then they shall 
go and be slaves. Now what can be more vis- 
ionary than such a mode of emancipation ? If 
any one scheme can be imagined more absurd 
than another, I think it is the one now proposed. 


part n. 

1. The mode of procuring slaves in Africa 
has nothing like fairness in it. The most re- 
putable way of accounting for the supply of 
slaves is to represent them as having been con- 
victed of crimes, by legal authority. But, Sir, 
the number of slaves annually exported from 
Africa is so great, that it is impossible to believe 
that all of them have been guilty of crimes. Brit- 
ain alone take oft' no less than thirty or forty thou- 
sand Africans every year. 

i 5 


154 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR 


2 But allowing all these men to have been 
condemned by due legal process, and according 
to the strictest principles of justice ; surely, Sir, 
in this view it is rather condescending in our 
country, and rather new also for us, to take on 
ourselves the task of transporting the convicts of 
other parts of the world, much more of those 
whom we call barbarous. 

3. Suppose now the court of France or Spain 
were to intimate a wish that we should perform 
this office for their criminals ; I believe we should 
hardly find terms strong enough to express our 
sense of the insult. But for Africa — for its petty 
states — for its lowest and most miserable crimi- 
nals, we accept the office with satisfaction and 
eagerness. 

4. Now, Sir, a word or two as to the specific 
crimes for which the Africans are sold as crim- 
inals. Witchcraft , in particular, is one. For 
this we entertain so sacred a horror, that there 
being no objects to be found at home, we make, 
as it were, a crusade to Africa, to show our indig- 
nation at the sin ! 

5. As to adultery , the practice to be sure, does 
not stand exactly on the same ground. Adulter- 
ers are to be met with in this country. Deter- 
mined, however, to show our indignation at this 
crime also, we send to Africa to punish it. We 
there prove our anger at it to be not a little se- 
vere, and lest any one in the world should escape 
punishment, we are willing to go even to Africa 
to be their executioners. 

6. The house will remember that what I have 
here stated, is even by their own account, the 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


155 


very best state of the ‘case which the advocates 
for the Slave Trade have pretended to set up. 
But let us see how far facts will bear them out 
even in these miserable pretexts. 

7. In one part of the evidence, we find a well- 

known black trader brings a girl to a slave ship 
to be sold. The captain buys her. Some of her 
relations come on board afterwards, and ascertain 
by whom she was sold. They, in return, catch 
the vender, bring him to the same ship, and sell 
him for a slave. What, says the black trader to 
the captain ? “ Do you buy me your grand 
trader ?” “ Yes, says the captain, I will buy you 

or any one else.” 

8. Now, Sir, there is great reason for dwelling 
on this story. Certainly at the first view, it ap- 
pears to be an instance of the most barefaced vil- 
lany, and of nothing else. But if we examine 
well into the subject, we shall see that what hap- 
pened in this case is, and must ever be the com- 
mon and ordinary conduct, that results from the 
very nature and circumstances of the trade 
itself. 

9. How could this captain decide ? What 
means had he even of inquiring who was the real 
owner of this girl ? W hether the grand trader 
or not ; or who was the owner of the grand 
trader. 

10. The captain said when they sold the grand 
trader, the same thing which he said when the 
trader sold the girl ; and the same thing too 
which he always had said, and always must say, 
namely, « I cannot know who has a right to sell 
yon ; it is no affair of mine. If they’ll sell you, 


156 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


I’ll buy you. I cannot enter into these contro- 
versies. If any man offers me a slave, my rule 
is to buy him, and ask no questions.” 

1 1. That the trade is, in fact, carried on in this 
manner, is indisputable ; and that wars are made 
in Africa, solely for the purpose of supplying the 
European Slave Trade, is equally so. 


FART hi. 

1 . I now come, Sir, to that which I consider 
really as the foundation of the whole business. 
The more I think on the subject, the more I re- 
flect on all the arguments, feeble as they are, 
which our adversaries bring forward in their de- 
fence, the more am I convinced that there is one 
ground and only one ground on which it is pos- 
sible for their side of the question to stand. 

2. It is an argument, which, though they did 
resort to at first, they have not used to-day ; but 
which really, Sir, if I were to advise them, they 
should again employ, and rest their whole case 
upon it. I mean that there is a difference of 
species, between black men and white, which is 
to be assumed from the difference of color. 

3 Driven as our antagonists have been, from 
this position, and ashamed of it, as they now are, 
they really have no other. Why, Sir, it we can 
but establish that blacks are men like ourselves, 
is it possible that we can have any patience on the 
subject ? Apply the same case to France which 
is happening every day in Africa. The differ- 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


157 


ence, in fac f , is only in the color of the people of 
the two countrie s. 

4 There exists now in France, or in several of 
its provinces, a very great degree of animosity 
between the two contending parties. Let 11 s sup- 
pose now that at Marseilles, for instance, or some 
other port, the aristocrats were to sell the demo- 
crats as fast as they could catch them ; and the 
democrats were to sell the aristocrats in like 
manner, and that we had ships hovering on the 
coast, ready to carry them all off as slaves to 
Jamaica, or some other island in the West- 
Indies. 

5. If we were to hear of such a circumstance, 
would it not strike us with horror ? What is the 
reason ? Because these men are of our own 
color. There is no other difference in the two 
cases whatever. It would fill us all with horror 
to authorize slavery any where, with respect to 
white men. Is it not quite as unjust, because 
some men are black, to say there is a natural dis- 
tinction as to them ; and that black men, because 
they are black, ought to be slaves ? 

6. Set aside difference of color, and is it not the 
height of arrogance to allege, that because we 
have strong feelings and cultivated minds, it 
would be great cruelty to make slaves of us ; but 
that because they are yet ignorant and uncivil- 
ized, it is no injury at all to them ? Such a prin- 
ciple, once admitted, lays the foundation of a 
tyranny and injustice that has no end. 

7. 1 remember to have once heard or read 
long before the present question was agitated, a 
■well known stpry of an African, who was of the 


158 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


first rank in his own country, and a man of let- 
ters. He was taken in one of those plundering 
wars, which the Slave Trade excites, was carried 
to Maryland, and sold, as it happened, to a re- 
markably humane and very excellent man* His 
master inquired into the case, found out that 
he was educated in the Mahometan religion, that 
he could read and write Arabic, that he was a 
man of rank, as well as literature, and all the cir- 
cumstances being taken into consideration, lie 
was, after a full examination of facts, redeemed 
and sent home to Africa. 

8. Now, Sir, if this man with all his advantages 
had fallen into the hands, I do not say of a hard 
hearted, but even an ordinary master, would he 
not inevitably have worn out his life in the same 
Egyptian bondage in which thousands of his fel- 
low-Africans drag on their miserable days ? Put 
such cases as these home to yourselves^ and you 
will find the Slave Trade is not to be justified, 
nor to be tolerated for a moment, for the sake of 
any convenience. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


159 


Speeches on various Oc- 
casions. 

THE FIRST SETTLERS OF NEW ENGLAND. 

From an Oration, delivered at Plymouth, Dec. 22d, 1802, 
on the Anniversary of the landing of the Plymouth set- 
tlers. By the Hon. John Quincy Adams. 

1. In reverting to the period of their origin, 
other nations have generally been compelled to 
plunge into the chaos of impenetrable antiquity, or 
to trace a lawless ancestry into the caverns of rav- 
ishers and robbers. It is your peculiar privilege 
to commemorate in this birth day of your nation, 
an event ascertained in its minutest details : an 
event of which the principal actors are known to 
you familiarly, as if belonging to your own age ; 
an event of a magnitude before which imagination 
shrinks at the imperfection of her powers. It is 
your further happiness to behold in those eminent 
characters, who were most conspicuous in ac- 
complishing the settlement of your country, men 
upon whose virtues you can dwell with honest ex- 
ultation. 

2. The founders of your race are not handed 
down to you, like the father of the Roman people, 
as the sucklings of a wolf. You are not descended 
from a nauseous compound of fanacticism and sen- 
suality, whose only argument was the sword, and 


160 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR 


whose only paradise was a brothel. No Gothic 
scourge of God — No Vandal pest of nations. No 
fabled fugitive from the flames of Troy — No bas- 
tard Norman tyrant appears among the list of 
worthies, who first landed on the rock which your 
veneration has preserved as a lasting monument 
of their achievement. 

3. The great actors of the day we now solemn- 
ize were illustrious by their intrepid valor, no less 
than by their Christian graces ; but the clarion of 
conquest has not blazoned forth their names to all 
the winds of Heaven. Their glory has not been 
wafted over oceans of blood to the remotest re- 
gions of the earth. They have not erected to 
themselves, colossal statues upon pedestals of 
human bones, to provoke and insult the tardy 
hand of heavenly retribution. 

4. But theirs was “ the better fortitude of pa- 
tience and heroic martyrdom.’’ Theirs was the 
gentle temper of Christian kindness — the rigor- 
ous observance of reciprocal justice — the un- 
conquerable soul of conscious integrity. Worldly 
fame has been parsimonious of her favors to the 
memory of those generous champions. 

5. Their numbers were small — their stations in 
life obscure — the object of their enterprise un- 
ostentatious — the theatre of their exploits remote : 
how could they possibly be favorites of worldly 
fame ? That common crier, whose existence is 
only known by the assemblage of multitudes — that 
pander of wealth and greatness so eager to haunt 
the palaces of fortune, and so fastidious to the 
houseless dignity of virtue — that parasite of pride, 
ever scornful to meekness, and ever obsequious 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


161 


to insolent power — that headless trumpeter, 
whose ears are deaf to modest merit, and whose 
eyes are blind to bloodless, distant excellence. 


RELIGION A SECURITY AGAINST NATIONAL 
CALAMITIES. 

From Rev. R. Hall’s Sermon, “ Reflections on War.” 

1. Our only security against national calamities 
is a steady adherence to religion, not the religion 
of mere form and profession, but that which has its 
seat in the heart ; not as it is mutilated and de- 
based by the refinements of a false philosophy, but 
as it exists in all its simplicity and extent in the 
sacred Scriptures ; consisting in sorrow for sin, 
in the love of God, and faith in a crucified Re- 
deemer. If this religion revives and flourishes 
amongst us, we may still surmount all our diffi- 
culties, and no weapon formed against us will 
prosper ; if we despise or neglect it, no human 
power can afford us protection. 

2. Instead of showing our love to our country, 
therefore, by engaging eagerly in the strife of par- 
ties, let us choose to signalize rather by benefi- 
cence, by piety, by an exemplary discharge of the 
duties of private life, under a persuasion that that 
man, in the final issue of things, will be seen to 
have been the best patriot, who is the best Christian. 

3. He who diffuses the most happiness, and 
mitigates the most distress within his own circle, 
is undoubtedly the best friend to his country and 
the world, since nothing more is necessary, than 


162 


THIS CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


for all men to imitate his conduct, to make the 
greatest part of the misery of the world cease in 
a moment. 

4. While the passion, then, of some is to shine, 
of some to govern, and of others to accumulate, 
let one great passion alone inflame our breasts, 
the passion which reason ratifies, which conscience 
approves, which Heaven inspires; that of being 
and of doing good. 


DUTY OF VISITING THE TCOR. 

From a Sermon of Rev. R. Hall, delivered before a 
■ * Society for the relief of the poor. 

1. It is, in my humble opinion, a most excellent 
part of the plan of the Society, in whose behalf I 
address you, that no relief is administered without 
first personally visiting the objects in their own 
abode. By this means the precise circumstances 
of each case are clearly ascertained, and impos- 
ture is sure to be detected. 

2. Where charity is administered without this 
precaution, as it is impossible to discriminate reai 
from pretended distress, the most disinterested 
benevolence often fails ol its purpose ; and that is 
yielded to clamorous importunity, which is with- 
held from lonely want. 

3. The mischief extends much farther. From 
the frequency of such imposition, the best minds 
are in danger of becoming disgusted with the ex- 
ercise of pecuniary charity, till, from the mistaken 
persuasion that it is impossible to guard against 


I'HE CHRISTIAN OltATOR. 


K53 


deception, they treat the most abandoned and the 
most deserving* with the same neglect. Thus the 
heart contracts into selfishness, and those delic- 
ious emotions which the benevolent Author of 
nature implanted to prompt us to relieve distress, 
become extinct ; a loss greater to ourselves than 
to the objects to whom we deny our compassion. 

4. To prevent a degradation of character so fa- 
tal, allow me to urge on all whom Providence has 
blessed with the means doing good, on those 
especially who are indulged with influence and 
leisure, the importance of devoting some portion 
of their time in inspecting, as well as of their prop - 
erty in relieving , the distresses of the poor. 

5. By this means an habitual tenderness will be 
cherished, which will heighten inexpressibly the 
happiness of life ; at the same time that it will 
most effectually counteract that selfishness which 
a continual addictedness to the pursuits of avarice 
and ambition never fails to produce. 

6. As selfishness is a principle of continual 
operation, it needs to be opposed by some other 
principle, whose operation is equally uniform and 
steady ; but the casual impulse of compassion, ex- 
cited by occasional applications for relief, is by no 
means equal to this purpose. Then only will be- 
nevolence become a prevailing habit of mind, when 
its exertion enters into the system of life, and oc- 
cupies some stated portion of the time and atten- 
tion. 

7. In addition to this, it is worth while to reflect 
how much consolation the poor must derive from 
finding they are objects of personal attention t( 
their more opulent neighbors, that they are ac 

K 


164 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR 


knowledged as brethren of the same family, and 
that should they be overtaken with affliction or 
calamity, they are in no danger of perishing un- 
pitied and unnoticed. With all the pride that 
wealth is apt to inspire, how seldom are the opu- 
lent truly aware of their high destination ! 

8. Placed by the Lord of all on an eminence, 
and intrusted with a superior portion of his goods, 
to them it belongs to be the dispensers of his 
bounty, to succor distress, to draw merit from 
obscurity, to behold oppression and want vanish 
before them, and, accompanied wherever they 
move with perpetual benedictions, to present an 
image of Him, who, at the close of time, in the 
kingdom of the redeemed, will wifie away tears 
from all faces. 


ON THE DANGER OF NEGLECTING THE POOR 
From the Same. 


1. To descant on the evils of poverty might 
seem entirely unnecessary, (for what with most is 
the great business of life, but to remove it to the 
greatest possible distance ?) were it not that be- 
sides its'being the most common of all evils, there 
are circumstances peculiar to itself, which expose 
it to neglect. The seat of its sufferings are the 
appetites, not the passions ; appetites which are 
common to all, and which, being capable of no 
peculiar combinations, confer no distinction. 

2. There ^are kinds of distress founded on the 
passions, which, if not applauded, arc at least ad- 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


16S 


mired in their excess, as implying a peculiar re- 
finement of sensibility in the mind of the sufferer. 
E iibellished by taste, and wrought by the magic 
of genius into innumerable forms, they turn grief 
into a luxury, and draw from the eyes of millions, 
delicious tears. 

3. But no muse ever ventured to adorn the 
distresses of poverty or the sorrows of hunger. 
Disgusting taste and delicacy, and presenting 
nothing pleasing to the imagination, they are mere 
misery in all its nakedness and deformity. Hence 
shame in the sufferer, contempt in the beholder, 
and an obscurity of station, wnich frequently re- 
moves them from the view, are their inseparable 
portion. 

4. Nor can I reckon it on this account amongst 
the improvements of the present age, that by the 
multiplication of works of fiction, the attention is 
diverted from scenes of real, to those of imaginary 
distress ; from the distress which demands relief, 
to that which admits of embellishment: in con- 
sequence of which the understanding is enervated, 
the heart is corrupted, and those feelings which 
were designed to stimulate to active benevolence, 
are employed in nourishing a sickly sensibility. 

5. Leaving therefore these amusements of the 
imagination to the vain and indolent, let us awake 
to nature and truth, and in a world from which 
we must so shortly be summoned, a world abound- 
ing with so many real scenes of heart-rending 
distress, as vveil as of vice and impiety, employ all 
our powers in relieving theone,anu in correcting 
the other, that when we have arrived at the bor- 
ic 2 


66 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


ders of eternity, we may not be tormented with the 
awful reflection of having lived in vain. 


ON PROF AN E SWEARING. 

Prom R. Hall’s Sermon, “ Sentiments proper to the 
present crisis.” 1809. 

1. Among the proofs of the degeneracy of our 
manners is that almost and universal profaneness 
which taints our daily intercourse. In no nation 
uncle i* heaven, probably, has the profanation of sa- 
cred terms been so prevalent as in this Christian 
land. 

2. The name even of the Supreme Being him- 
self, and the words he has employed to denounce 
the punishments of the impenitent, are rarely 
mentioned, but in anger or in sport ; so that were 
a stranger to our history to witness the style of 
our conversation, he would naturally infer that we 
considered religion as a detected imposture ; and 
that nothing more remained, than, in return for the 
fears it had inspired, to treat it with the insult and 
derision due to a fallen tyrant. 

3 It is difficult to account for a practice which 
gratifies no passion, and promotes no interest, un- 
less we ascribe it to a certain vanity of appearing 
superior to religious fear, which tempts men to 
make bold with their Maker. If there are hypo- 
crites in religion, there are also, strange as it may 
appear, hypocrites in impiety, men who make an 
ostentation of more irreligion than they possess. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


16 7 

4. An ostentation of this nature, the most irra- 
tional in the records of human folly, seems to lie 
at the root of profane swearing. It may not be 
improper to remind such as indulge this practice, 
that they need not insult their Maker to shew that 
they do not fear him ; that they may relinquish 
this vice without danger of being supposed to be 
devout, and that they may safely leave it to other 
parts' of their conduct to efface the smallest sus- 
picion of their piety. 


the dignity and importance of the min- 
isterial OFFICE. 

From Rev. R. Hall’s Sermon on the discouragements and 
supports of the Christian ministry. 1811. 

1. If the dignity of an employment is to be es- 
timated, not by the glitter of external appearances, 
but by the magnitude and duration of the conse- 
quences involved in its success, the ministerial 
function is an high and honorable one. 

2. Though it is not permitted us to magnify 
ourselves , we may be allowed to magnify our of- 
fice ; and, indeed, the juster the apprehensions we 
entertain of what belongs to it, the deeper the con- 
viction we shall feel of our defects. 

3. Independently of every other consideration, 
that office cannot be mean which the Son of God con- 
descended to sustain : The word which we preach 
first began to be spoken by the Lord ; and, while 
he sojourned upon earth, that Prince of life was 
chiefly employed in publishing his own religion. 

K 3 


163 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


4. That office cannot be mean, whose end is the 
recovery of man to his original purity and happi- 
ness — the illumination of the understanding — the 
communication of truth — and the production of 
principles which will bring forth fruit unto ever- 
lasting life. 

5. As the material part of the creation was form- 
ed for the sake of the immaterial ; and of the lat- 
ter the most momentous characteristic is its moral 
and accountable nature, or, in other words, its ca- 
pacity of virtue and vice ; that labor cannot want 
dignity, which is exerted in improving man in his 
highest character, and fitting him for his eternal 
destination. 

6. Here alone is certainty and durability : for 
however highly we may esteem the arts and sci- 
ences, which polish our species, and promote the 
welfare of society ; whatever reference we may 
feel, and ought to feel, for those laws and institu- 
tions whence it derives the security necessary for 
enabling it to enlarge its resources and develope its 
energies, we cannot forget that these are but the 
embellishments of a scene, which we must shortly 
quit — the decorations of a theatre, from which the 
eager spectators and applauded actors must soon 
retire. 

7. The end of all things is at hand. Vanity is 
inscribed on every earthly pursuit, on all sublunary 
labor ; its materials, its instruments, and its objects 
will alike perish. An incurable taint of mortality 
has seized upon, and will consume them ere long. 
The acquisitions derived from religion, the graces 
of a renovated mind, are alone permanent. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


169 


8. How high and awful a function is that which 
proposes to establish in the soul an interior do- 
minion — to illuminate its powers by a celestial 
light — and introduce it to an intimate, ineffable, 
and unchanging alljance with the Father of spirits ! 

9. What an honor to be employed as the instru- 
ment of conducting that mysterious process by 
which men are born of God ; to expel from the 
heart the venom of he old serpent ; to purge the 
conscience from invisible stains of guilt ; to re- 
lease the passions from the bondage of corruption, 
and invite them to soar aloft into the regions of 
uncreated light and beauty ; to say to the prison- 
ers, go forth — to them that are in darkness , shew 
yourselves ! 

10. These are the fruits which arise from the 
successful discharge of the Christian ministry ; 
these the effects of the Gospel, wherever it be- 
comes the power of God unto salvation : and the 
interests which they create, the joy which they 
diffuse, are felt in other worlds. 


BOLDNESS OF RETROOr. 

Calvin’s Speech to his flock, on his return from exile, in 
1541 . 

1. If you desi/’e to have me for your pastor, 
correct the disorder of your lives, if you have 
with sincerity recalled me from my exile, banish 
the crimes and debaucheries which prevail among 
you, 

IC 4 


170 


TKfc] CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


2. I certainly cannot behold, within your walls 
here, without the most painful displeasure, dis- 
cipline trodden under foot, and crimes committed 
with impunity. I cannot possibly live in a place 
so grossly immoral. 

3. Vicious souls are too filthy to receive the 
purity of the Gospel, and the spiritual worship 
which 1 preach to you. A life stained with sin 
is too contrary to Jesus Christ to be tolerated. 

4. I consider the principal enemies of the Gos- 
pel to be, not the pontiff of Rome, nor heretics, nor 
seducers, nor tyrants, but such bad Christians ; 
because the former exert their rage out of the 
church, while drunkenness, luxury, perjury, blas- 
phemy, impurity, adultery, and other abominable 
v ices, overthrow my doctrine, and expose it de- 
fenceless to the rage of our enemies. 

5. Rome does not constitute the principal object 
of my fears. Still less am I apprehensive from 
the almost infinite multitude of monks. The gates 
of hell, the principalities and powers of evil spirits, 
disturb me not at all. 

6. 1 tremble on account of other enemies, more 
dangerous ; and 1 dread abundantly more those 
carnal covetousnesses, those debaucheries of the 
tavern, of the brothel, and of gaming; those in- 
famous remains of ancient superstition, those mor- 
tal pests, the disgrace of your town, and the shame 
of the reformed name. 

7. Of what importance is it to have driven away 
the wolves from the fold, if the pest ravage the 
flock ? Of what use is a dead faith, without good 
works ? Of what importance is even truth itself, 
where a wicked life belies it, and actions, make 
words blush ? 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


m 


8. Either command me to abandon a second 
time your town, and Jet me go and soften the 
bitterness of my afflictions in a new exile, or let 
the severity of the laws reign in the church. 
Re-establish there the pure discipline. Remove 
from within your walls, and from the frontiers 
of your state, the pest of your vices, and con- 
demn them to a perpetual banishment. 


ON INTEMPERANCE. 

From Rev. Dr. Appleton’s Address before the Massa- 
chusetts Society for suppressing Intemperance. May, 
1816. 

1. Parents may view, with more indulgence 
than alarm, occasional irregularities in a favorite 
son. By a repetition of these, some uneasiness 
is produced in spite of parental partiality- They 
begin with suggesting cautions, rise to mild re- 
monstrance, and, as the case becomes more ur- 
gent, they make warm and reiterated appeals to 
his regard to interest, his love of character, his 
affection for them, his sense of moral obligation, 
and the well known effect of irregular habits in 
shortening human life. 

2. They flatter themselves, that all these ef- 
forts are not abortive. Some tender emotions, 
some ingenuous relentings, are perceived. 
These are gladly hailed, as the witnesses of pen- 
itence, and the harbingers of reformation. 
Hopes thus suddenly formed, are found to be 


172 


TIIE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 

premature. The anxiety of the parents i sre- 
newtd and augmented by recent evidence of 
profligacy in the son. 

3. fo reclaim him, their affection prompts 
them to make new exertions, — to repeat argu- 
ments, which have hitherto been found ineffect- 
ual, to exhibit these in new and various connex- 
ions. From remonstrance they proceed to en- 
treaty, to supplication and tears. The old bow 
before the young; the innocent praytothe guilty. 

4. As a last expedient, they will change his 
place of residence. New scenes and new com- 
panions may be more propitious to virtue ; at 
least they will exhibit fewer temptations to vice. 
The experiment is made, and with apparent 
success. His mind is so occupied with new as- 
sociations, as, for a time, to yield little attention 
to the cravings of appetite. 

5. His friends again indulge a trembling 
hope, that notwithstanding past irregularities, 
all may yet be well. Delightful, but vain illu- 
sion ! The novelty gradually disappears; but 
the strength of inclination is unsubdued. 

6. The taste, which has been so unhappily 
formed, is now incorporated into his constitu- 
tion, — it has become a permanent part of his 
character ; it is always ready to be acted upon, 
when circumstances are presented, favorable to 
its indulgence. He becomes callous to shame, 
and deaf to remonstrance. 

7. Or, if there are some remains of moral 
sensibility, to avoid the stings of solitary reflec- 
tion, he seeks relief in the excitement produced 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


m 

by dissipation. That, which he denominates 
pleasure, is nothing but a tumultuous agitation 
of the passions. As if visited by the curse of 
Kahama , “ There is a fire in his heart, and fire 
in his brain.” 

8. I once knew a young man of reputable 
connexions, and of more than ordinary powers 
of mind, who. conscious that he was verging to- 
wards intemperance, commenced his profession- 
al studies in a place, where rural scenes, and 
the prevailing state of morals, seemed well cal- 
culated to cherish sobriety, and repress vice. 
He profited by his situation, and imagined, that 
his good resolutions were gaining strength. 

9. At one disastrous hour, being visited by 
some of his former associates, he consented to 
renew, for once, the scenes of their former con- 
viviality. Excessive indulgence was the result. 
The hours of returning sobriety were spent in 
self-reproach. lie justly considered his recent 
defection as a fatal crisis in his probation Hav- 
ing no longer any confidence in himself and 
thinking it useless to contend, he yielded to 
inclination, and became its unresisting captive. 

10. Of the sufferings endured by the parent 
of an intemperate son, that cruel suspense al- 
ready suggested, is not the least. His expect- 
ations, which, to day are gathering strength, 
will be dead to morrow. With tormenting ra- 
pidity, he passes from hope to fear, and from 
fear to hope- Nor, because it will be unavailing, 
can he divest himself of all anxiety. Natural 
affection prevents it. He is, therefore chained 


174 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


to a load, which is always ready to recoil upon 
him. 

11. In the case, which has been supposed, the 
disease was not suffered to become inveterate, 
belo/e remedies were applied Proportionably 
greater will be the difficulty of recovery, should 
the disorder be confirmed by long indulgence. 
To reclaim the inveterate drunkard, reason ac- 
knowledges the inadequacy of her powers The 
object of reasoning is to produce conviction. 
But the sinner in question is convinced already. 

12. With intentions, the purity of which he 
cannot call in question, you remind him of his 
estate, already embarrassed and partially squan- 
dered; of his family, either corrupted, or im- 
poverished. degraded mortified and comfort- 
less ; of his limbs, become feeble and tremu- 
lous; of his countenance, inflamed, disfigured, 
and rendered at once the hideous image of sin 
and death ; and of many, whom habits, similar 
to his own- have brought prematurely to the 
grave ; remind him, that, in the death of these, 
he has a sure and direful presage of his own. 

13 In aid of ail these motives, appeal to his 
faith in revelation ; point out to him that terrific 
sentence, wliicti declares, that no drunkard shall 
inherit the kingdom of God — What have you 
gained by all t his array of motives? He ac- 
knowledges, that your arguments are conclu- 
sive, and that your remonstrances are rational 
and weighty. He weeps under the mingled in- 
fluence of terror and self reproach. W ithout 
being able to hide from his eyes the precipice 


ini/ tmusiiADl UKAl’UK. 




before him, he advances towards it with totter- 
ing, but accelerated steps. The grave, ever in- 
satiable, is prepared for him. It shrouds him 
from every eye, but that of his Maker. 


ALARMING SYMPTOMS OF NATIONAL DEGEN* 
ERACY. 

From Rev. R. Hall’s Sermon on a National Fast. 1803. 

PART I. 

1. Among the most alarming symptoms of 
national degeneracy, 1 mention a gradual depar- 
ture from the peculiar truths, maxims, and spirit, 
of Christianity. 

2. Christianity, issuing perfect and entire from 
the hands of its Author, will admit of no mutila- 
tions nor improvements ; it stands most secure 
on its own basis ; and without being indebted to 
foreign aids, supports itself best by its own internal 
vigor. 

3. When under the pretence of simplifying it, 
we attempt to force it into a closer alliance with 
the most approved systems of philosophy, M*e are 
sure to contract its bounds, and to diminish its 
force and authority over the consciences of men. 
It is dogmatic ; not capable cf being advanced 
with the progress of science, but fixed and im- 
mutable. 


176 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


4 . We may not be able to perceive the use or 
necessity of some of its discoveries, but they are 
not on this account the less binding on our faith ; 
just as there are many parts of nature, whose 
purposes we are at a loss to explore, of which, 
if any person were bold enough to arraign the 
propriety, it would be sufficient to reply that 
God made them. They are both equally the 
works of God, and both equally partake of the 
mysteriousness of their author. 

5. This integrity of the Christian faith has been 
insensibly impaired ; and the simplicity of mind 
with which it should be embraced, gradually db 
minished. While the outworks of the sanctuary 
have been defended with the utmost ability, its 
interior has been too mudi neglected, and the 
lire upon the altar suffered to languish and de- 
cay. 

6. The truths and mysteries which distin- 
guished the Christian from all other religions, 
have been little attended to by some, totally 
denied by others ; and while infinite efforts 
have been made, by the utmost subtlety of argu- 
mentation, to establish the truth and authenticity 
of revelation, few have been exerted in compari- 
son to show what it really contains. 

7*$ The doctrines of the fall and of redemption, 
which are the two grand points on which the 
Christian dispensation hinges, have been too much 
neglected. Though it has not yet become the 
fashion (God forbid it ever should) to deny them, 
vve have been too much accustomed to confine 
the mention of them to oblique hints, and distant, 
allusions. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


177 


8. They are too often reluctantly conceded, 
rather than warmly inculcated, as though they 
were the weaker or less honorable parts of Chris- 
tianity, from which we were in haste to turn away 
our eyes, although it is in reality these very 
truths, which have in every age inspired the de- 
votion of the church, and the rapture of the re- 
deemed. 

9. This alienation from the distinguishing 
truths of our holy religion, accounts for a porten- 
tous peculiarity among Christians, their being 
ashamed of a book which they profess to receive 
as the word of God. 

10. The votaries of all other religions regard 
thejr supposed sacred books with a devotion, 
which consecrates their errors, and makes their 
very absurdities venerable in their eyes. They 
glory in that which is their shame : we are 
ashamed of that which is our glory. 

11. Indifference and inattention to the truths 
and mysteries of revelation, have led, by an easy 
transition, to a dislike and neglect of the book 
which contains them ; so that, in a Christian 
country, nothing is thought so vulgar as a serious 
appeal to the Scriptures; and the candidate for 
fashionable distinction would rather betray a fa- 
miliar acquaintance with the most impure writers, 
than with the words of Christ and his apostles. 

12. Yet we complain of the growth of infideli- 
ty, when nothing less could be expected than that 
some should declare themselves infidels, where 
so many had completely forgot they were Chris- 
tians. They who sow the seed can with very ill 
grace complain of the abundance of the crop ; 


178 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR 


and when we have ourselves ceased to abide in 
the words, and to maintain the honor, of the Sav- 
iour, we must not be surprised at seeing some ad- 
vance a step further, by openly declaring they 
are none of his. The consequence has been such 
as might be expected, — an increase of profane* 
ness, immorality, and irreligion. 

13. The traces of piety have been wearing 
out more and more, from our conversation, from 
our manners, from our popular publications, from 
the current literature of the age. In proportion 
as the maxims and spirit of Christianity have de- 
clined, infidelity has prevailed in their room ; for 
infidelity is, in reality, nothing more than a nox- 
ious spawn (pardon the metaphor) bred in the 
stagnant marshes of corrupted Christianity. 


PART II. 

1. A lax theology is the natural parent of a 
lax morality. The peculiar motives, according- 
ly, by which the inspired writers enforce their 
moral lessons, the love of God and the Redeem- 
er, concern for the honor of religion, and grati- 
tude for the inestimable benefits of the Christian 
redemption, have no place in the fashionable sys- 
tems of moral instruction.* 


* If the reader wishes for a further statement and illus- 
tration of these melancholy facts, he may find it in Mr. 
Wiberforce’s celebrated book on Religion ; an inestima- 
ble work, which has, perhaps, done more than any other 
to rouse the insensibility and augment the piety of the 
age. 


THE CHRISTIAN - ORATOR. 


179 


2. The motives almost exclusively urged are 
such as take their rise from the present state, 
founded on reputation, on honor, on health, or on 
the tendency of the things recommended to pro- 
mote, under some form or other, the acquisition 
of worldly advantages. Thus even morality itself, 
by dissociating it from religion, is made to cherish 
the love of the world, and to bar the heart more 
effectually against the approaches of piety. 

3. Here I cannot forbear remarking a great 
change which has taken place in the whole man- 
ner of reasoning on the topics of morality and 
religion, from what prevailed in the last century, 
and, as far as my information extends, in any pre- 
ceding age. This, which is an age of revolutions 
has also produced a strange revolution in the 
method of viewing these subjects, the most impor- 
tant by far that can engage the attention of man, 

4. The simplicity of our ancestors, nourished 
bv the sincere milk of the word, rather than by 
the tenets of a disputatious philosophy, was content 
to let morality remain on the firm basis of the 
dictates of conscience and the will of God. They 
considered virtue as something ultimate, as bound- 
ing the mental prospect.They never supposed for 
a moment there was any thing to which it stood 
merely in the relation oi means , or that within 
the narrow confines of this momentary state 
any thing great enough could be found to be its 
end or object, 

5. It never occurred to their imagination, 
that that religion, whic h professes to render us 
superior to the world, is in reality nothing more 
than an instrument to procure the temporal, the 


180 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


physical good of individuals, or of society. In 
their view, it had a nobler destination ; it looked 
forward to eternity : and if ever they appear to 
have assigned it any end or object beyond itself, it 
was an union with its Author, in the perpetual 
fruition of God. 

6. They arranged these things in the following 
order : religion, comprehending the love, fear, 
and service of the Author of our being, they placed 
first ; social morality, founded on its dictates, con- 
firmed by its sanctions, next ; and the mere physi- 
cal good of society they contemplated as subor- 
dinate to both. 

7. Every thing is now reversed. The pyramid 
is inverted : the first is last, and the last first. 
Religion is degraded from its pre-eminence, into 
the mere handmaid of social morality ; social 
morality into an instrument of advancing the wel- 
fare of society; and the world is all in all. 


THE HUMILITY AND DIGNITY OF THE CHRISTIAN. 

From a Sermon of Rev. R. Hall. 

1. Humility is the first fruit of religion. In the 
mouth of our Lord there is no maxim so frequent 
as the following, Whosoever exalteth himself shall 
be abased , but he that humbleth himself shall be 
exalted . Religion, and that alone teaches absolute 
humility, by which I mean, a sense of our absolute 
nothingness, in the view of infinite greatness and 
excellence. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


181 


2. That sense of inferiority, which results from 
the comparison of men with each other, is often an 
unwelcome sentiment forced upon the mind, which 
may rather imbitter the temper than soften it : 
that which devotion impresses, is soothing and 
delightful. 

3. The devout man loves to lie low at the foot- 
stool of the Creator, because it is then he attains the 
most lively perceptions of the divine excellence, 
and the most tranquil confidence in the divine 
favor. In so august a presence he sees all dis- 
tinctions lost, and all beings reduced to the same 
level ; he looks at his superiors without envy, and 
his inferiors without contempt ; and when from this 
elevation he descends to mix in society, the con- 
viction of superiority, which must in many in- 
stances be felt, is a cairn inference of the under- 
standing, and no longer a busy, importunate pas- 
sion of the heart. 

4. The wicked , says the Psalmist, through the 
pride of their countenance , will not seek after God ; 
God is not in all their thoughts. When we con- 
sider the incredible vanity of the atheistical sect, 
together with the settled malignity, and unre- 
lenting rancor with which they pursue every 
vestige of religion ; is it uncandid to suppose, 
that its humbling tendency is one principal cause 
of their enmity : that they are eager to displace 
a Deity irom the minds of men, that they may 
occupy the void ; to crumble the throne of the 
Eternal into dust, that they may elevate them- 
selves on its ruins ; and that, as their licentious- 
ness is impatient of restraint, so their pride dis- 
dains a superior ? 

L 


182 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR 


5. As pride hardens the heart, and religion is the 
only effectual antidote, the connexion between irre- 
ligion and inhumanity is, in this view, obvious. 
But there is another light in which this part of 
the subject may be viewed, in my humble opinion, 
much more important, though seldom adverted 
to. 

6. The supposition that man is a moral and ac- 
countable being, destined to survive the stroke of 
death, and to live in a future world in a never end- 
ing state of happiness or misery, makes him a 
creature of incomparably more consequence , than 
the opposite supposition. 

7. When we consider him as placed here by an 
almighty Ruler in a state of probation, and that 
the present life is his period of trial, the first link 
in a vast and interminable chain which stretches 
into eternity, he assumes a dignified character in 
our eyes. Every thing which relates to him be- 
comes interesting ; and to trifle with his happi- 
ness is felt to be the most unpardonable levity. 

8 If such be the destination of man, it is evi- 
dent, that in the qualities which fit him for it, his 
principal dignity consists : his moral greatness is 
his true greatness. Let the skeptical principles 
be admitted, which represent him, on the contrary, 
as the offspring of chance, connected with no su- 
perior power, and sinking into annihilation at 
death, and he is a contemptible creature, whose 
existence and happiness are insignificant. The 
characteristic difference is lost betwixt him and 
the brute creation, from which he is no longer dis- 
tinguished, except by the vividness and multi- 
plicity of his perceptions. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR, 


183 


MOTIVES TO SECURE THE BLESSINGS OF THE 
GOSPEL. 


From Rev. Dr. Dwight’s Sermon at the ordination of Rev. 

N. W. Taylor. 

1. To this divine, this indispensible employ- 
ment, every motive calls you, which can reach the 
heart of virtue, or wisdom. The terms, on which 
these blessings of the gospel are offered, are of all 
terms the most reasonable. You are summoned 
to no sacrifice, but of sin, and shame, and wretch- 
edness. No service is demanded of you, but ser- 
vices of gain and glory. « My son , give me thine 
heart ” is the requisition, which involves them all. 

2. Remember how vast, how multiplied, how 
noble, these blessings are ! Remember, that the 
happiness of heaven is not only un mingled and 
consummate ; not only uninterrupted and immor- 
tal : but ever progressive. 

3. Here all the attributes of body ano mind ; the 
peace within, and the glory without ; the knowl- 
edge, and the virtue ; the union of minds, and the 
beneficence of the hand j gratitude to God, and 
his complacency in his children ; together with 
the ‘peculiarly divine system of providence in that 
delightful world ; will advance with a constant 
step towards the ever retreating goal of absolute 
perfection. 

4. The sanctified infant will here hasten on- 
ward to the station, occupied by Abraham , Moses , 
and Paul. These superior intelligences will re- 
gularly move forward to that of angels ; and angels 
will lift their wings to a summit, to which hitherto 

l 2 


184 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


no angel ever wandered, even in the most vigor- 
ous excursions of thought. 

5. Thus will this divine assembly make a per- 
petual progress in excellence and enjoyment, to- 
wards bounds, which ever retire before them, and 
ever will retire, when they shall have left the 
heights, on which seraphs now stand, beyond the 
utmost stretch of recollection. 

6. To this scene of glory, all things continually 
urge you. The seasons roll on their solemn 
course ; the earth yields its increase, to furnish 
blessings to support you. Mercies charm you to 
their Author. Afflictions warn you of approach- 
ing ruin ; and drive you to the ark of safety. Mag- 
istrates uphold order and peace, that you may 
consecrate your labors to the divine attainment. 

7. Ministers proclaim to you the glad tidings 
of great joy ; and point out to you the path to 
heaven The Sabbath faithfully returns its mild 
and sweet season of grace, that earthly objects 
may not ’engross your thoughts, and prevent your 
attention to immortality. The sanctuary unfolds 
its doors ; and invites you to enter in, and be sav- 
ed. The Gospel still shines to direct your feet, 
and to quicken your pursuit of the inestimable 
prize 

8. Saints wait, with fervent hope of renewing 
their joy over your repentance. Angels spread 
their wings to conduct you home. The Father 
holds out the golden sceptre of forgiveness, that 
you may touch, and live. The Son died on the 
cross, ascended to heaven, and intercedes before 
the throne of mercy, that you may be accepted. 
The Spirit of grace and truth descends with his 
benevolent influence, to allure and persuade you. 


TIIE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


185 


9. While all things, and God at the head of all 
things, are thus kindly and solemnly employed, to 
encourage you in the pursuit of this inestimable 
good, will you forget, that you have souls, which 
must be saved, or lost ? Will you forget, that the 
only time of salvation is the present ? that beyond 
the grave there is no Gospel to be preached ? that, 
there, no offers of life are to be made! that no 
Redeemer vyill there expiate your sins ; and no 
forgiving God receive your souls? 

10. Of what immense moment, then, is the pres- 
ent ! How invaluable every Sabbath ; every mean 
of salvation ! Think how soon your last Sabbath 
will set in darkness ; and the last sound of mercy 
die upon your ears ? How painful, how melan- 
choly, an object, to a compassionate eye, is a blind, 
unfeeling, unrepenting immortal ! 

11. But, O ye children of Zion, in all the per- 
plexities and distresses of life, let the Gospel be an 
anchor to your souls , sure and steadfast. To the 
attainment of the happiness, winch it unveils, con- 
secrate every purpose, and bend every faculty. 
In the day of sloth, let it quicken you to energy. 
In the hour of despondency, let it reanimate your 
hope. In the season of wo, let it pour the balm 
of Gilead into your hearts. 

12. View every blessing as a token of love from 
the God, to whom you are going ; as a foretaste 
of immortal good. Stretch your imaginations to 
the utmost ; raise your wishes higher and higher, 
while you live ; not a thought shall miss its ob- 
ject ; not a wish shall be disappointed. Eternity 
is now heaping up its treasures for your possess- 
ion. The voice of Mercy, with a sweet and 

l 3 


transporting sound, bids you arise , and come away. 
Your fears, your sorrows, your sins, will ail leave 
you at the grave. 

13. Seethe gates oflife already unfolding to 
admit you. The first-born open their arms to 
welcome you to their divine assembly. The Sav- 
iour, who is gone before to prepare a place for 
your reception, informs you, that all things are 
ready. With triumph, then, with ecstasy, hasten 
to enjoy the reward of his infinite labors in an uni- 
verse of good, and in the glory , which he had with 
the Father before ever the world was. 


THE SURPRISE OF DEATH. 

From Masillon. 

1. The surprise which you have to fear is not 
one of those rare, singular events which happen to 
but a few unhappy persons, and which it is more 
prudent to disregard, than to provide for. It is 
not that an instantaneous, sudden death may seize 
you, — that the thunder of heaven may fall upon 
you, — that you may be buried under the ruins of 
your houses, — that a shipwreck may overwhelm 
you in the deep : nor do i speak of those misfor- 
tunes whose singularity renders them more ter- 
rible. but at the same time less to be apprehended. 

2. It is a familiar event ; there is not a day but 
furnishes you with examples of it ; almost all men 
are surprised by death ; all see it approach, when 
they think it most distant ; all say to themselves, 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


187 


like the fool in the gospel ; “ Soul, take thine ease, 
thou hast much goods laid up for many years.” 

3. Thus have died your neighbors, your 
Mends, almost all those of whose death you have 
been informed ; all have left you in astonishment 
at the suddenness of their departure. You have 
sought reasons for it, in the imprudence of the 
person while sick, in the ignorance of physicians, 
in the choice of remedies ; hut the best and in- 
deed the only reason is, that the day of the Lord 
always cometh by surprise. 

4. The earth is like a large field of battle 
where you are every day engaged with the enemy ; 
you have happily escaped to-day, but you have 
seen many lose their lives who promised them- 
selves to escape as you have done. To-morrow 
you must again enter the lists ; who has assured 
you that fortune, so fatal to others, will always be 
favorable to you alone ? And since you must per- 
ish there at last, are you reasonable in building a 
firm and permanent habitation, upon the very 
spot which is destined to be your grave ? 

5. Place yourselves in whatever situation you 
please, there is not a moment of time, in which 
death may not come, as it has to many others in 
similar situations. 

6. There is no action of renown, which may not 
be terminated by the eternal darkness of the grave; 
Herod was cut off* in the midst of the foolish ap- 
plauses of his people : No public day which may 
not finish with your funeral pomp ; Jezebel was 
thrown headlong from the window of her palace, 
the very day that she had chosen to shew herself 
with unusual ostentation : No delicious feast 

L 4 


188 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


which may not bring death to you ; Belshazzar 
lost his life when seated at a sumptuous banquet ; 
No sleep which may not be to you the sleep of 
de- h ; Holofernes, in the midst of his army, a 
conqueror of kingdoms and provinces, lost his 
life by an israehtish woman, when asleep in his 
tent : No crime which may not finish your 
crimes ; Zimri found an infamous death in the 
tents of tiie daughters of Midian : No sickness 
which may not terminate your days ; you very 
often see the slightest infirmities resist all ap- 
plications of the healing art, deceive the expect- 
ations of the sick, and suddenly turn to death. 

7 In a word, imagine yourselves in any cir- 
cumstances of life, wherein you may ever be 
placed and you will hardly be able to reckon 
the number of those who have been surprised 
by death when^n like circumstances ; and you 
have no warrant that you shall not meet with 
the same fate. You acknow ledge this ; you own 
it to be true; but this avowal, so terrible in it- 
self, is only an acknowledgment which custom 
demands of you but which never leads you to a 
single precaution to guard against the danger. 


THE UNCERTAINTY OF LIFE. 

From the Same. 

1. The hour of death is uncertain ; every 
year, every day, every moment may be the last. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


189 


It is then a mark of folly to attach one’s self to any 
thing which may pass away in an instant, and by 
that means lose the only blessing which will 
never fail. Whatever, therefore, you do solely 
for this world, should appear lost to you ; since 
you have here no sure hold of any thing ; you 
can place no dependence on any thing ; and you 
can carry nothing away but what you treasure 
up for heaven. 

2. The kingdoms of the world, and all their 
glory- ought not to balance a moment the in- 
terests of your eternal state ; since a large for- 
tune and an elevated rank will not assure to you 
a longer life than an inferior situation ; and 
since they will produce only a more bitter cha- 
grin on your death beds, when you are about to 
be separated from them forever. All your 
cares, all your pursuits, all your desires ought, 
then, to centre in securing a durable interest, 
an eternal happiness, which no person can rav- 
ish from you. 

3. The hour of death is uncertain : You ought 
then to die every day ; — not to indulge your- 
selves in an action in which you would be un- 
willing to be surprised ; — to consider all your 
pursuits as the pursuits of a dying man, who 
every moment expects his soul will be demanded 
of him ; — to periorm all your works as if you 
were that instant to render an account of them ; 
and since you cannot answer for the time which 
is to come, so to regulate the present that you 
may have no need of the future to make repa- 
ration. 

t 5 


190 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


4. In fine, the hour of death is uncertain ; 
Do not then defer repentance ; do not delay to 
turn to the Lord ; the business requires haste. 
You cannot assure yourselves even of one day ; 
and yet you put off a preparation for death to a 
distant and uncertain futurity. 

5 If you had imprudently swallowed a mortal 
poison, would you delay, to some future time, 
to apply a remedy which was at hand, and which 
alone could preserve lile ? Would the death 
which you carried in vour own bosom admit of 
delay and remissness? This is precisely youi\ 
condition. If you are wise, take immediate pre- 
caution. 

,6. You carry death in your souls, since you 
carry sin there. Hasten then to apply a reme- 
dy ; every instant is precious to him who can- 
not assure himself of a single one. The poi- 
sonous draught which infects your soul will 
not permit you to continue long ; the goodness 
of God as yet offers you a remedy ; hasten then 
to improve it, while time is allowed you. 

7. Can there be need of exhortations to in- 
duce you to resolve upon this ? Ought it not to 
suffice that the benefit of the cure is pointed out 
to you ? Would it be necessary to exhort an un- 
fortunate man, borne on the billows, to make ef- 
forts to save himself from destruction ? Ought 
you then to have need of our ministrations on 
this subject ? 

8. Your last hour is just at hand ; in the 
twinkling of an eye you are to appear before the 
tribunal of your God. You may usefully em- 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR 


191 


piov the moment which remains. The most of 
those who die daily under your eyes? suffer that 
moment to pass, and die without improving it. 
You imitate their negligence ; the same fate 
awaits you ; like them, you will die before you 
have begun to lead better lives. They were 
warned of their danger, and you also are warned ; 
their unhappy lot makes no impression upon 
you, and the death which awaits you will have 
no more effect upon those who shall survive 
9. There is a succession of blindness which 
passes from parents to children, and which is 
perpetuated on the earth ; all determine to re- 
form their lives, and yet most people die before 
they commence the work of reformation. 


THE STATE OF THE JEWS. 

By Rev. J. W. Cunningham, before the London Jews’ 
Society. 


PART I. 

1. Let us now come to a fourth period, viz. 
to our own days. And here it is necessary to 
observe that, notwithstanding the continued un- 
belief and disobedience of the Jews, the merci- 
ful intentions of God towards his prostrate peo- 
ple are as obvious and prominent now, as at any 
other period of their history. 

2. It is true that they are fallen, — fallen as 
those must expect to full, who “ trample under 


1S2 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


foot the Son of God) and count the blood of the 
covenant an unholy thing” — fallen as you and I 
must expect to fall, if, when God stretches out 
the golden sceptre of mercy, we refuse to take 
hold of it. 

3, I’hey are indeed fallen, — but is the patience 
of God, therefore, towards them exhausted, — 
has he no mercies in store for them, — does he 
mean to leave them in the dust, — shall the ban- 
ner of falsehood forever float upon the towers of 
the Holy City, — shall the daughter of %ion ait 
forever in her gate mourning and desolate ? 

4 Search the Scriptures,” my brethren, 
unrol any page of the prophetical volume, and 
what do you find? Promises I may venture to 
say, almost countless in their number, and im- 
measurable in their extent, renewing to the 
Jews the charter of their hopes, and triumphs, 
and joys, promising the Messiah for a King, and 
“the uttermost parts of the earth for their pos- 
session 1” 

5. “ l will strengthen the house of Judah, 
and I will save the house of Joseph ; and I will 
bring them again to place them; for I have 
mercy upon them, and they shall be as though 
I had no? cast them off ; for I am the Lord 
their God. and I will hear them ; I will hiss for 
them, and gather them ; for I have redeemed 
them: They shall remember me in far coun- 
tries ; and they shall live with their children, 
and turn again.” — But it is needless to multiply 
extracts of this kind. They abound in the sacred 
volume. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


193 


6. Whenever the harp of Z’on sounds- the 
song of their future triumph is heard- When- 
ever the hand of prophecy rends the veil from 
future events, and displays to us the glories* of 
the last days, it always points to the Jews as 
first in the procession of worthies — as leading 
the march of universal victory — as resum rig 
their lost precedency over an evangelized world. 

7. The ultimate triumphs of Christianity it- 
self are represented as, in a measure, suspended 
upon the conversion of the Jews. The world is 
to wait for them. The hand of eternal mercy 
is to be unchained only by their conversion. 
The earth is not to be watered by the richest 
dews of heaven, till the vine flourishes upon the 
holy hill. 

8. The principle on which the society pro- 
ceeds, is this : It discovers in the sacred writ- 
ings a general injunction to preach the gospel 
to all nations. No people being excluded from 
the blessing, the servant of God naturally 
searches out those points of the universe where 
his attempts are likely to be most profitably con- 
ducted. Amongst others, he finds a people part- 
ly mixed up with the mass of Christian society, 
and partly collected in the very centre of Eu- 
rope ; either living in the light of Christianity, 
or touching upon the confines of it. 

9. He finds, moreover, that the conversion of 
that nation, thus eligibly circumstanced for in- 
struction, is to precede the general conversion 
of the world. He discovers that this people 
have always been a peculiar object of the divine 


194 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR 


dispensations, and that almost every movement of 
Providence points to them. 

10. It is then wonderful that their conversion 
should become a favorite object to the devout stu- 
dent of the Bible, — that he should begin his labors 
at a point, where he knows that partial success will 
pave the way to the general success, — that he 
should cheer his fainting hopes with looking on 
the star which God hath lighted up in the dark 
horizon of Judea, — that he should follow its guid- 
ance, and should there choose to combat with un- 
belief, at the point where the triumph of faith is to 
be achieved ? 

PART II. 

1. It has been said by some, “ We discover 
no particular encouragement to undertake the 
conversion of the Jews at the present moment, 
either in the present circumstances of our own 
country, or in those of the world in general.” 

2„ To this, I reply, that 1 do discover such en- 
couragement. I discover it in the dislocation of 
the Mahometan power, which has always been 
the grand political barrier to Jewish restoration. 
I discover it in the concurrent testimony of the 
most able interpreters of prophecy, that the* 
period for the restoration of the Jews is fast ap- 
proaching. I discover it in the fact that many of 
the Jews themselves entertain the same opinion. 
I discover it in the remarkable circumstance, 
which seems to be well authenticated, of many 
Jews having manifested of late a singular dispo- 
sition to migrate to their own land. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


195 


3. I discover it in the unprecedented facilities 
provided in our own age and country, by our 
commercial connexions, and above ail, by the 
very general spirit of religious zeal and enter- 
prise which God has so mercifully awakened in 
tins favored country. I discover it in the means 
supplied for the operations of this Society, and 
the operations of other Societies ; by the circu- 
lation of Bibles, and of Missionaries abroad, and 
by the erection of schools, upon a new and pow- 
erful principle at home. 

4. I discover it in the fact of the almost instan- 
taneous erection of a Society, combining so much 
of the virtue, talents, and wealth of the country, 
and successful beyond all hope in its application 
to public benevolence. These are facilities, my 
brethren, which, in my judgment, no individual 
can safely neglect to employ. These are calls 
which I, for one, am afraid not to obey. 

5. We have much lost time to redeem, — many 
past injuries to cancel, — many and countless ob- 
ligations to this afflicted people to repay. As I 
stand here I seem to hear the voices of those Jews 
who evangelized the world, calling for some re- 
turn to their country. I hear again the voice of 
Him, who condescended to spring from a Jewish 
mother, and to dwell upon its favored soil, calling 
upon us to teach all nations, ‘‘ beginning at Jeru- 
salem” And hearing such invitations, I desire 
myself to obey them ; and I feel it incumbent on 
me to say to you — Come, and let us join hand 
and heart in this great work. 


196 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


PART 111. 

1. I remember to have heard the late vener- 
able Bishop Porteus, not long before his death, 
standing as it were upon the verge of heaven, 
and thence, perhaps, catching some more than 
common glimpse of the glories within, use his 
expiring strength to stimulate his countrymen to 
become the Apostles of the land of Israel. And 
surely there is no title and no apostleship, which 
we should more anxiously covet. 

2. There are some who imagine that we are 
too prodigal in the distribution of the Bible. To 
them I say — look at Judea. Behold a people 
suffering a famine of the word of God. Remem- 
ber that Christians have never repaid the ancient 
people of God for the gift of their Scriptures, by 
the present of ours in their own language. Re- 
member that the oracies of the promised land are 
now silenced, the Urim and the Thummim re- 
moved, the Shechinah withdrawn, the altar over- 
thrown, and its fires extinguished. 

3 . Instead then of indulging a penurious spirit 
in the distribution of these celestial treasures, as 
you have freely received, freely give. Endeavor 
to turn back the stream of divine knowledge to 
fertilize the land in which it rose. 

4 . There are others who conceive that our 
Missionary efforts are fruitlessly exhausted in 
barbarous regions. To them I say — Behold in 
Judea a sphere precisely adapted to your wishes. 
You may there find the mind in every stage of 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR 


197 


advancement or degradation, from the wandering 
Arab, to the superstitious Monk. 

5. You may there try every experiment upon 
men, which zeal or benevolence can dictate. 
You may there, under the divine blessing, at- 
tempt the work of evangelizing under every 
modification ; either, as it were, to hew out the 
Christian from the rock of Mahometanism, or to 
chisel and mould him to the standard of the 
sanctuary from the disfigured forms of popery. 

6. You have, there, in short, a sphere of Mis- 
sionary enterprise, in which literature and talents 
may assist to do the work of religion ; in which 
the genius of devotion may be still supposed to 
linger ; in which a new spark may re-iilumine 
the decayed fires, where zeal, instead of exhaust- 
ing itself in the unpropitious atmosphere of idola- 
try, will be refreshed by every surrounding scene, 
where the Missionary will see in every spot some 
beacon for the apostate, some record for the re- 
ligion of his fathers, some memorial of his Sav- 
iour and his God. 


VANITY OF WORLDLY GOOD. 


From a Sermon of Rev. Dr. Dwight, delivered after his 
recovery from a severe sickness, to the students of 
Yale College. June, 1816. 

1. « To him who stands on the brink of the 
grave, and the verge of eternity, who retains the 
full possession of his reason, and who at the same 


198 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


time is disposed to serious contemplation, all 
these things become mightily changed in their 
' appearance. To the eye of such a man, their 
former alluring aspect vanishes, and they are 
seen in a new and far different light. 

2. “ Like others of our race, I have relished 
several of these things, with at least the common 
attachment. Particularly, I have coveted repu- 
tation and influence, to a degree which I am 
unable to justify. Nor have I been insensible to 
other earthly gratifications; either to such, as, 
when enjoyed with moderation, are innocent ; or*, 
such as cannot be pursued without sin. 

3. “ But in the circumstances to which I have 
referred, all these things were vanishing from my 
sight. Had they been really valuable in any sup- 
posable degree, their value was gone. They 
could not relieve! me from pain ; they could not 
restore me to health ; they could not prolong 
my life ; they could promise me no good in the 
life to come. What then were these things to 
me. 

4. — A person, circumstanced in the manner, 
which has been specified, must necessarily regard 
these objects, however harmless, or even useful, 
they may be supposed in their nature, as having 
been hostile to his peace, and pernicious to his 
well-being. In all his attachment to -them, in all 
his pursuit of them, it is impossible for him to 
fail of perceiving, that he forgot the interests of 
his soul, and the commands of his Maker ; be- 
came regardless of his duty, and his salvation ; 
and hazarded for dross and dirt, the future enjoy- 
ment of a glorious immortality. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR 


199 


5. It is impossible not to perceive, that in the 
most unlimited possession of them, the soul would 
have been beggared, and undone ; that the gold 
of the world would not have made him rich ; nor 
its esteem honorable; nor its favor happy. For 
this end he will discover, that nothing will suffice 
but treasure laid up in heaven ; the loving-kind- 
ness of God ; and the blessings of life eternal. 

6. Let me exhort you, my young friends, now 
engaged in the ardent pursuit of worldly enjoy- 
ments, to believe, that you will one day see them 
in the very light in which they have been seen 
by me. The attachment to them which you so 
strongly feel, is unfounded . vain, full of danger, 
and fraught with ruin. You will one day view 
them from a dying bed. There, should you re- 
tain your reason, they will appear as they really 
are 

7. They will then be seen to have two totally 
opposite faces. Of these you have hitherto seen 
blit one. That, gay, beautiful, and alluring as it 
now appears, will then be hidden from your 
sight ; and another, which you have not seen, 
deformed, odiolis, and dreadful, will stare you in 
the face, and fill you with amazement and bitter- 
ness. No longer pretended friends, and real flat- 
teres ; they will unmask themselves ; and appear 
only as tempters, deceivers, and enemies, who 
stood between you and heaven ; persuaded you 
to forsake your God ; and cheated you out of 
eternal life. 


M 


200 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


ON DUELLING. 


From Rev. Dr. Mason’s Oration on the Death of Genera! 

Hamilton. 1S04. 

1. Sad, my fellow-citizens, are the recollec- 
tions and forebodings which the present solemni- 
ties force upon the mind. Five years have not 
elapsed since your tears flowed for the Father of 
your country, and you are again assembled to 
shed them over her eldest Son. No, it is not an 
illusion — would to God it were : Your eyes be- 
hold it : the Urn which bore the ashes of Wash- 
ington, is followed by the Urn which bears the 
ashes of Hamilton. 

2. Fathers, friends, countrymen I the grave 
of Hamilton speaks. It charges me to remind 
you that he fell a victim, not to disease nor acci- 
dent ; not to the fortune of glorious warfare ; but, 
how shall I utter it ? to a custom which has no 
origin but superstition, no aliment but depravity* 
no reason but in madness. Alas 1 that he should 
thus expose his precious life. This was his error. 
A thousand bursting hearts reiterate, this was 
his error. 

3. Shall I apologize ? I am forbidden by his 
living protestations, by his dying regrets, by his 
Wasted blood. „ Shall a solitary act into which he 
was betrayed and dragged, have the authority of 
a precedent ? The plea is precluded by the long 
decisions of his understanding, by the principles 
of his conscience, and by the. reluctance of his 
heart. Ah ! when will our morals be purified, 


THE -CHRISTIAN ORATOR 


201 


and an imaginary honor cease to cover the most 
pestilent of human passions ? 

4 . My appeal is to military men. Your hon- 
or is sacred. Listen. Is it honorable to enjoy 
the esteem of the wise and good ? The wise and 
good turn with disgust Irom the man who law- 
lessly aims at his neighbor’s life. Is it lionora . 
ble to serve your country ? That man cruelly in- 
jures her, who, from private pique, calls his fel- 
low-citizen into the dubious field. 

5. Is fidelity honorable ? The man forswears 
his faith, who turns against the bowels of his 
countrymen, weapons put into his hand for their 
defence. Are generosity, humanity, sympathy, 
honorable ? That man is superlatively base, who 
mingles the tears of the widow and orphan, with 
the blood of a husband and father. Do refinement, 
and courtesy, and benignity, entwine with the 
laurels of the brave ? The blot is yet to be wiped 
from the soldier’s name, that he cannot treat his 
brother with the decorum of a gentleman, unless 
the pistol or the dagger be every moment at his 
heart. Let the votaries of honor now look at 
their deed. Let them compare their doctrine 
with this horrible comment. 

6. My countrymen, the land is defiled with 
blood unrighteously shed. Its cry, disregarded 
on earth, has gone up to the throne of God \ and 
this day docs our punishment reveal our sin. It 
is time for us to awake. The voice of moral vir- 
tue, the voice of domestic alarm, the voice of the 
fatherless and widow, the voice of a nation’s 
wrong, the voice of Hamilton’s blood, the voice 
of impending judgment, calls for a remedy. 


202 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


7. At this hour Heaven’s high reproof is sound- 
ing from Maine to Georgia, and from the shores 
of the Atlantic to the banks of the Missisippi. It 
we refuse obedience, every drop of blood spilled 
in single combat, will lie at out door, and will be 
recompensed when our cup is full. We have, 
then, our choice, either to coerce iniquity, or pre- 
pare for desolation ; and in the mean time, to 
make our nation, though infant in years, yet ma- 
ture in vice, the scorn and the abhorrence of civ- 
ilized man ! 

8. Fathers, friends, countrymen ! the dying 
breath of Hamilton recommended to you the 
Christian’s hope. His single testimony out- 
weighs all the cavils of the sciolist, and all the 
jeers of the profane. 

9. Who will venture to pronounce a fable, that 
doctrine of “ life and immortality,” which his 
profound and irradiating mind embraced as the 
truth of God ? When you are to die, you will find 
no source of peace but in the faith of Jesus. Cul- 
tivate for your present repose and your future 
consolation, what our departed friend declared to 
be the support of his expiring moments : — “ A 
tender reliance on the mercies of the Almighty, 
through the merits of the Lord Jesus Christ ’’ 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


203 


EXTRACT FROM C HIl YSOSTOM’s DISCOURSE ON 
EUTROPIUS* DISGRACE.* 

1. Where is now that splendor of the most 
exalted dignities ? where are those marks of 
honor and distinction ? What is become of that 
pomp of feasting and rejoicings ? What is the 
issue of those frequent acclamations, and extrav- 
agantly flattering encomiums, lavished by a whole 
people assembled in the Circus to see the public 
shews ? A single blast of wind has stript that 
proud tree of all its leaves ; and, after shaking its 
very roots, has forced it in an instant out of the 
earth. Where are those false friends, those vile 
flatterers, those parasites so assiduous in making 
their court, and in discovering a servile attach- 
ment by their words and actions ? All this is gone 
and fled away, like a dream, like a flower, like a 
shadow. 

2. Had I not just reason, Eutropius, to set be- 
fore you the inconstancy of riches ? You now 
have found by your own experience, that like 
fugitive slaves, they have abandoned you ; and 
are become, in some measure, traitors and mur- 
derers with regard to you, since they arc the prin- 
cipal cause of your fail. I often repeated to you, 
that you ought to have a greater regard to my 
admonitions, how grating soever they might ap- 
pear, than to the insipid praises which flatterers 

* Eutropius was a favorite of the Emperor Arcadius, 
and an enemy to the church. Arcadius was at length 
obliged to abandon him, and he was reduced from the 
highest pitch of grandeur, into an abyss of misery. 


204 THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR, 

were perpetually lavishing on you, because faith- 
ful are the wounds of a friend ; but the kisses of 
an enemy are deceitful* 

3. Had I not just reason to address you in this 
manner ? What is become of the crowd of court- 
iers ? They have turned their backs ; they have 
renounced your friendship ; and are solely intent 
upon their own interest and security, even at the 
expense of yours. We submitted to your vio- 
lence in the meridian of your fortune, and, now 
you are fallen, we support you to the utmost of 
our power. The Church, against which you have 
warred, opens its bosom to receive you ; and the 
theatres, the eternal object of your favor, which 
had so often drawn down your indignation upon 
us, have abandoned and betrayed you. 

4. I do not speak this to insult the misfortunes 
of him who is fallen, nor to open and make 
wounds smart that are still bleeding ; but in or- 
der to support those who are standing, and teaoh 
them to avoid the like evils. And the only way 
to avoid these, is, to be fully persuaded of the 
frailty and vanity of worldly grandeurs. To call 
them a Bower, a blade of grass, a smoke, a 
dream, is not saying enough, since they are even 
below nothing. Of this we have a very sensible 
proof before our eyes. 

5. What man ever rose to such an height of 
grandeur ? Was he not immensely rich ? Did he 
not possess every dignity ? Did not the whole 
empire stand in fear of him ? And now, more 
deserted, and trembling still more, than themean- 


Prov. xxvii. 6. 


THE CHRISTIAN' ORATOR. 


205 


est of unhappy wretches, than the vilest slave, 
than the prisoners confined in dungeons ; having 
perpetually before his eyes swords unsheathed 
to destroy himself ; torments and executioners I 
deprived of day-light at noon-day, and expecting, 
every moment, that death which perpetually 
stares him in the face ! 

6. You were witnesses yesterday, when people 
came from the palace in order to drag him hence, 
how he ran to the holy altars, shivering in every 
limb ; pale and dejected, scarce uttering a word 
but what was interrupted by sobs and groans, and 
rather dead than alive. I again repeat, I do not 
declaim in this manner in order to insult this 
fall, but to move and affect you by the description 
of his calamities, and inspire you with tenderness 
and compassion for one so wretched. 


UTILITY OF TRACTS. 

From the 6th Report of the Methodist Tract Society i* 
Sheffield, (Eng.) written by the poet Montgomery. 

1. There are persons who never read the 
word of God, who never attend public worship, 
and who, from heedltfesness, prejudice or hatred, 
concern not themselves about the things that be- 
long to their peace. A tract is a missile weapon, 
which the Spirit of God may direct to the convic- 
tion and conversion of a sinner, unassailable from 
any other quarter. 


M 4 


206 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR 


2. It falls in the way of such an one, — he would 
be ashamed to look at it among his companions, 
but he is alone, and he has nothing else to do, — 
something in the title attracts his eye, — its brevity 
tempts his indolence.— he begins to read it with 
indifference, perhaps with repugnance ; but his 
curiosity being excited, and feeling himself more 
and more interested, he proceeds with diminish- 
ing prejudice and increasing seriousness to the 
end. 

3. He has got through it, but he has not done 
with it ; he lays it out of his hand, but he cannot 
lay it out of his mind ; its story has not passed 
through his imagination only, like an arrow 
through the invulnerable, but it has pierced his 
heart, his understanding, his conscience, and in 
each it has left a wound, that cannot be healed ; 
the anguish of which is only inflamed by vain art?' 
to assuage it ; for the more he shuns the recol- 
lection of the things that alarmed him, the closer 
they haunt him ; and the very attempt to forget 
the words, indelibly fixes them in his remem* - 
brance. 

4. In his distress he seeks pleasure where for- 
merly he found it, but he finds it no more; he 
seeks rest in unbelief and obduracy, but rest is no 
more there ; his peace is slain ; the world car 
never again be to him whatsit has been ; — happi- 
ness and repose he must possess in religion, or 
renounce all prospect of either for ever. Then, 
and not till then, when every refuge of lies has 
failed him, he lays hold of the hope set before him 
in the gospel, and in bitterness of soul exclaims, 
“ What shall I do to be saved ?” — The answer if 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


2or 


nigh unto him ; he finds it in the very page that 
condemned him ; — “ Believe in the Lord Jesus 
Christ, and thou shalt be saved.” He does believe, 
and he is saved. 

5. This is merely stating a single example, 
among thousands that do, and millions that might 
occur, in the course of Providence, if these small 
but effectual calls to repentance were universally 
and abundantly distributed. We say universally 
and abundantly , — because though a few tracts, 
carefully scattered, may and must do good, yet 
what can be produced by supplies so dispropor- 
tioned to the wants of mankind, but here a blade’of 
grass, and there perhaps a flower, where all was 
barren before, and where all is still barren around ? 
whereas, to make the wilderness and the solitary 
place to rejoice, and the desert to blossom like the 
irose, we must, in our measure, imitate the boun- 
ty of our heavenly Father, who causes the sun in 
his progress to shine on every spot of land and 
sea ; and his rain to fall on the rock and the high- 
way, as well as on the fertile plain and the cul- 
tured garden. 

6. A tract lying in a cottage window is a preach- 
er, with a message from God to every one who 
takes it up. This Preacher will be instant in sea- 
son and out of season ; it, will wait patiently till it 
can deliver its message, and it will deliver it fully, 
faithfully, without apology, equivocation, or re- 
spect of persons ; it will fearlessly tell the truth, 
and we hope nothing but the truth : it will speak 
to the conscience, and it will teach the conscience 
. 40 speak. 


M 5 


208 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR 


CHARACTER OF RICHARD REYNOLDS. 

From a Speech of llev. Mr. Thrope, at the first Anniver- 
sary Meeting of the Reynolds Commemoration Society 
at Bristol, (England) 1816. 

PART I. 

1. When a person of brilliant and dazzling' 
talents' is suddenly thrown upon the world, it is 
common to inquire into his birth and parentage ; 
his education and manner of life, the incidents of 
his childhood, and of his youth ; to analyze, if X 
may so speak, the elements of which his character 
is composed ; to mark the steps by which he rose, 
to that point, from which he burst upon society ; 
ip a word, to examine and re-examine the validity 
of his claims to public attention. 

2. In like manner, when a character of singu- 
lar and transcendent moral excellence is held up 
to public view, and attracts universal admiration, 
it is natural to inquire into its origin and connex- 
ions ; the principles by which he was actuated, 
and the school whence those principles were de- 
rived. 

3. Such a character was Richard Reynolds. 
So modest, and yet so dignified ; so judicious, and 
yet so liberal in the distribution of his bounties ; 
so discriminating and successful in the detection 
of imposture, and yet so unbounded in.his benev- 
olence ; combining, as he did, such unbending in- 
tegrity with so much tenderness of heart — “ take 
him all in ally nve ne'er shall look ujion his like 
again ” In a world like this, defiled by sin and 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


209 


sunk in selfishness, such exalted characters are 
rarely to be found. 

4. The same rank that Milton holds among 
the poets; the same rank that Nelson holds among 
the commanders of the British navy ; the same 
rank, but shining with a milder lustre, does Rey- 
nolds hold amongst the philanthropists, who in 
different ages, have appeared the delight and 
wonder of mankind. 

5. We admire the imagination of the poet ; we 
are astonished at the bravery of the warrior : but 
love, reverence, and admiration, exert all their 
powers, and rise into rapture, while we contemplate 
the virtues and the labors of the philanthropist. 

6. We become weary amidst the imaginary 
scenes and imaginary worlds into which we are 
conducted by the enchanting wand of the poet ; 
and gladly descend to earth again, that we may 
hold converse with beings like ourselves. We 
turn with horror and consternation from the blood 
and carnage, the piercing shrieks, the dying 
groans, the mutilated limbs, and all the mighty 
havock inflicted by die sword of the conqueror. 

7. But we follow without weariness the foot- 
steps of the philanthropist whithersoever he goes. 
With silent wonder we attend him in his visits to 
the hut of cheerless poverty ; the abodes of age 
and decrepitude ; the cottage of industry, sunk 
in -disease and maimed by misfortune ; the hab- 
itation of the weeping widow, and her helpless, 
unconscious orphans ; the hovel of wretchedness 
and black despair ; and without reluctance — nay, 
with cheerful steps, we descend with him to the 
dungeon of misery and guilt, the last, the lowest 
stage of infamy and wo. 


210 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR, 


8. With pleasure, such as charity only knows, 
we behold a new creation in the moral world, 
vising before the god-like man. The furrowed 
cheek is smoothed, and the winter of age wears 
the aspect of spring; the hut of poverty is no 
longer cheerless ; industry is restored to health 
and vigor, and plies its wonted task ; the widow 
wipes away her tears, and smiles ; her orphans 
have enough, and her house is no longer the 
house of mourning; hope illumines and expands 
the countenance, where despair had darkened and 
contracted every muscle ; and penitence descends 
to enlighten the dungeon, to break the chains of 
guilt, and by its kindly influence to dissolve the 
heart of the guilty criminal. 

9. What are the fascinations of the poet, or ex- 
ploits of the warrior, compared with scenes like 
these? We find it good to be here. The place 
whereon we stand is holy. We taste the joys and 
imbibe the spirit of the good man himself. Wer 
seem to rise above the selfishness of nature. We 
catch a portion of the flame that glows in his 
bosom. We mingle our tears with his tears, we 
share his trials, and exuitingly exclaim, “ Oh the 
luxury of doing good l” 

PART II. 

1. Humility was the most prominent feature 
in his character. Although the whole empire 
felt the effects of his beneficence, so industriously 
were his charities concealed, that after lus decease 
many w r ere heard to ask the question, “ Who n 
this Richard Reynolds ?” 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 211 

2. It was not until the formation of your So- 
ciety that multitudes, who had never heard his 
name, began to inquire into his origin and con- 
nexions ; the principles which form the basis of 
his character, and the school whence those prin- 
ciples were derived. To those inquiries there is 
one short and comprehensive answer. 

3. Richard Reynolds was a Christian. Un- 
der the regenerating influence, of Christianity he 
became a new creature ; upon her lap he was 
nurtured, under her discipline he was trained : 
and the whole career of his benevolence was noth- 
ing more than a practical exemplification of the 
lessons he inculcated. In her school, under her 
tuition, and by her fostering hand only, such 
characters ever were, or ever can be formed. 

4. How odious when placed with the names of 
Howard, Hanway, Thornton, and Reynolds, are 
those of Paine, Voltaire, Hume, Bolingbroke, 
and of the whole race of infidels ! Here you re- 
cognize angels of mercy amidst fiends of wrath ; 
saviours amidst the destroyers of mankind. 

5. In vain will you search for men like them 
amongst the heroes, sages, and patriots of an- 
tiquity, whose names and virtues are emblazoned, 
and held up to the admiration of future ages. It 
is a remarkable fact, that heathenism never found- 
ed an 'hospital, or endowed an almshouse . 

6. Look at mighty Athens, and you will every 
where perceive monuments of taste, and genius, 
and elegance ! Look at an imperial Pagan Rome 
in all her glory ! You will behold all the grandeur 
of the human intellect unfolded in her temples, 
her palaces, and her amphitheatres. You wilt 


212 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


find no hospital or infirmary ; no asylum for the 
aged and the infirm, the fatherless, and the widow; 
the blind, the dumb, the deaf ; the outcast and the 
destitute. 

7. How vastly superior in this respect is Bris- 
tol to Athens, is London to Rome ! These, Chris- 
tianity, are thy triumphs ! These are thy lovely 
offspring 1 they all bear the lineaments of their 
common parent. Their family likeness proves 
the sameness of their origin. Mercy conjoined 
with purity is the darling attribute of our holy 
religion. 


CHARACTER OF MRS. GRAHAM. 

From Rev. Dr. Mason’s Sermon on her death. Aug. 1814. 

PART l. 

1. Isabella Marshall, known to us as Mrs. 
Graham, received, from nature, qualities which in 
circumstances favorable to their devolopment, do 
not allow their possessor to pass through life un- 
noticed and inefficient. 

2. An intellect strong, prompt, and inquisitive 
— a temper open, generous, cheerful, ardent — a 
heart replete with tenderness, and alive to every 
social affection, and every benevolent impulse — 
a spirit at once enterprising and persevering. The 
whole crowned with that rare and inestimable en- 
dowment, good sense, were materials which re- 
quired only skilful management to fit her for 
adorning and dignifying any female station. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


213 


3. With that sort of cultivation which the 
world most admires, and those opportunities 
which attend upon rank and fortune, she might 
have shone in the circles of the great, without 
forfeiting the esteem of the good. 

4. Or had her lot fallen among the literary un- 
believers of the continent, she might have figured 
in the sphere of the Voltaires, the Deffands, and 
the other esfirits forts of Paris. She might have 
been as gay in public, as dismal in private, and as 
wretched in her end, as any the most distinguish- 
ed among them for their wit and their wo. 

5. But God had destined her for other scenes 
and services — scenes from which greatness turns 
away appalled ; and services which all the cohorts 
of infidel wit are unable to perform. She was to 
be prepared by poverty, bereavement and grief, to 
pity and to succor the poor, the bereaved, and the 
grieving. 

6. The sorrows of widowhood were to teach 
her the heart of the widow—- her babes, deprived 
of their father to open the springs of her compas- 
sion to the fatherless and orphan — and the consola- 
tions of God, her “ refuge and strength, her very 
present help in trouble,” to make her a daughter 
of consolation to them, who were “ walking in the 
valley of the shadow of death.” 

7. To train her betimes for the future dispen- 
sations of his providence, the Lord touched the 
heart of this “ chosen vessel” in her early youth. 
The spirit of prayer sanctified her infant lips ; and 
taught her, as far back as her memory could go, 
to u pour out her heart” before God. She had 
not reached her eleventh year, when she selected 


214 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


a bush in the retirement of the field, and there de- 
voted herself to her God by faith in the Redeemer. 

8. The incidents of her education, thoughtless 
companions, the love of dress, and the dancing 
school, as she has herself recorded, chilled for a 
while the warmth of her piety, and robbed her 
bosom of its peace. But her gracious Lord re- 
visited her with his mercy, and bound her to him- 
self in an everlasting covenant, which she sealed 
at his own table about the 17th year of her age. 

9. Having married, a few years after, Dr. John 
Graham, surgeon to the 60th British regiment, 
she accompanied him first to Montreal, and short- 
ly after to Fort Niagara. Here, during four years 
of temporal prosperity, she had no opportunity, 
even for once, of entering “the habitation of God’s 
house,” or hearing the sound of his gospel. 

PART IT. 

1 . By one of those vicissitudes which checker, 
military life, the regiment was ordered to the 
island of Antigua, in the West-Indies. Here she 
met with that exquisite enjoyment to which she 
had been long a stranger — the communion of 
kindred spirits in the love of Christ : and soon 
did she need ail the soothing and support which 
it is fitted to administer. For in a very short time 
the husband of her youth, the object of her most 
devoted affection, her sole earthly stay, was taken 
from her by death. 

2. With a dignity which belongs only to them 
who have a treasure in heaven, she descended to 
her humble cot, employment, and fare. But her 


THE CHRISTIAN’ ORATOR. 


215 


humility, according to the Scripture, was the 
forerunner of her advancement. The light of 
her virtues shone brighter in her obscurity, and 
pointed her way to the confidential trust of 
forming the minds and manners of young fe- 
males of different ranks in the metropolis of 
Scotland. 

3. Here, respected by the great, and beloved 
by the good ; in sacred intimacy with “ devout 
and honorable women,” and the friendship of 
men who were in truth “ servants of the most 
high God,’ , she continued in the successful dis- 
charge of her duties, till Providence conducted 
her to our shores. 

4. She long had a predilection for America, 
as a land in which, according to her favorite 
opinion, the Church of Christ is signally to flour- 
ish. Here she wished to end her days and leave 
her children. And we shall remember, with 
gratitude, that in granting her wish, God cast 
her lot with ourselves. 

5. Twenty-five years ago she opened in this 
city a school for the education of young ladies> 

' the benefits of which have been strongly felt, 
and will be long felt hereafter, in different and 
distant parts of our country. 

6. Evidently devoted to the welfare of her pu- 
pils — attentive to their peculiarities of charac- 
ter — happy in discovering the best avenue of 
approach to their minds — possessing, in a high 
degree, the talent of simplifying her instruction 
and varying its form, she succeeded in that most 
difficult part of a teacher’s work; the inducing 


216 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


youth to take an interest in their own improve* 
ment ; and to educate themselves by exerting 
their own faculties . 

7. Admonished, at length, by the ihfirmities 
of age; and importuned by her friends, this 
venerable matron retired to private life. But it 
was impossible for her to be idle Her leisure 
only gave a new direction to her activity. With 
no less alacrity than she had displayed in the 
education of youth, did she now embark in the 
relief of misery. Her benevolence was unboun- 
ded, but it was discreet. 

PART 111. 

1. There are charities which increase the 
wretchedness they are designed to diminish : 
which, from some fatal defect in their applica- 
tion, bribe to iriquity while they are relieving 
want ; and make food, and raiment, and cloth- 
ing to warm into life the most poisonous seeds 
of vice. 

2. But the charities of our departed friend 
were of another order. They selected the fit- 
test objects — the widow — the fatherless — the 
orphan — the untaught child— and the ignorant 
adult. They combined intellectual and moral 
benefit with the communication of physical 
comfort. In her house originated the Society 
for the relief of floor Widows with small Children . 
Large, indeed, is this branch of the family of 
affliction ; and largely did it share in her sym" 
pathy and suceor. 


tHE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 21? 

3. When at the head of the noble association 
just named? she made it her business to see 
with her own eyes the objects of their care; 
and to give? by her personal presence and efforts, 
the strongest impulse to their humane system. 

4. From morning till night has she gone 
from abode to abode of these destitute, who are 
too commonly unpitied by the great, despised 
by the proud, and forgotten by the gay. She 
has gone to sit beside them on their humble 
seat, hearing their simple and sorrowful story — 
sharing their homely meal — ascertaining the 
condition of their children — stirring them up 
to diligence, to economy, to neatness, to order- 
putting them into the way of obtaining suitable 
employment for themselves and suitable places 
for their children — distributing among them the 
word of God, and little tracts calculated to fa- 
miliarize its first principles to their understand- 
ing — cherishing them in sickness — admonish-* 
ing them health — instructing, reproving, ex- 
horting, consoling — sanctifying the whole with 
ferve nt prayer. Many a sobbing heart and 
streaming eye is this evening embalming her 
memory in the house of the widow. 

5. Little, if am, less is the debt due to her 
from that invaluable charity, the Orphan Asy- 
lum . It speaks its own praise, and that praise 
is hers. Scores ol orphans redeemed front filth, 
from ignorance, from wretchedness, from 
crime — clothed, fed, instructed — trained, in 
cleanliness, to habits of industry — early imbued 
with the knowledge and fear of God — gradually 


218 


'i*H E CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


preparing for respectability, usefulness, and hap- 
piness— is a spectacle for angels. Their infan- 
tine gaiety, their healthful sport, their cherub 
faces, mark the contrast between their present 
and former condition ; and recal, very tenderly, 
the scenes in which they used to cluster round 
their patron-mother, hang on her gracious 
words, and receive her benediction. 

6. Brethren, l am not dealing in romance, but 
in sober fact. The night would be too short for 
a full enumeration of her worthy deeds. Suf- 
fice it to say, that they ended but with her life. 
The sabbath previous to her last sickness occu- 
pied her with a recent institution — d Sunday 
School for Ignorant Adults ; and the evening 
preceding the touch of death, found her at the 
side of a faithful domestic, administering con- 
solation to his wounded spirit. 


PART IV. 

1. Recal the example of Mrs. Graham, 
tlere was a woman— a widow — a stranger in a 
strange land — without fortune — with no friends 
but i uch as her letters of introduction and her 
worth should acquire— and with a family of 
daughters dependent upon her for their subsist- 
ence Surely if any one has a clear title of im- 
munity from the obligation to carry her cares 
beyond the domestic circle) it is this widow; 
it is this stranger. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


219 


2. Yet within a few years this stranger, this 
widow, with no means but her excellent sense, 
her benevolent heart, and her persevering will 
to do good awakens the charities of a populous 
city- and gives to them an impulse, a direction, 
and an efficacy, unknown before ! 

3. What might not be done by men ; by men 
of talent, of standing, of wealth, of leisure? 
How speedily, under their well directed benefi- 
cence, might a whole country change its physi- 
cal, intellectual, and moral aspect; and assume 
comparatively speaking, the face of another 
Eden — a second garden of God ? 

4. Why then do they not diffuse, thus exten- 
sively, the seeds of knowledge- of virtue, and of 
bliss? I ask not lor their pretences; they are 
as old as the lust of lucre ; and are refuted by 
the example which we have been contemplating. 
I ask for the true reason, for the inspiring prin- 
ciple, of their conduct- It is this — let them 
look to it when God shall call them to account 
for the abuse of their time, their talents, their 
station, their “ unrighteous mammon ” — It is 
this ; They believe not the words of the Lord 
Jesus, how he said, It is more blessed to give 
than to receive They labor under no want but 
one — they want the heart ! 

5. 1 turn to the other sex. That venerable 
mother in Israel, who has exchanged the ser- 
vice of God on earth for his service in heaven, 
lias left a legacy to her sisters — she has left the 
example of her faith and patience ; she has left 
her prayers ; she hau left the monument of her 

N 2 


220 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


Christian deeds ; and by these she “ being dead 
yet speaketh.” 

6. Matrons ! has she left her mantle also ? 
Are there none among you to hear her voice 
from the tomb ? “ Go, and do thou likewise 
None whom affluence permits, endowments 
qualify, and piety prompts, to aim at her dis- 
tinction, by treading in her steps ? 

7. Maidens ! Are there none among you, who 
"would wish to array yourselves hereafter in the 
honors of this “ virtuous woman ?” Your hearts 
have dismissed their wonted warmth and gener- 
osity, if they do not throb as the revered vision 
arises before you — Then prepare yourselves now 
by seeking and serving the God of her youth. 

8. You cannot be too early “adorned with 
the robes of righteousness and the garments of 
salvation” in which she was wedded, in her 
morning of life, to Jesus the King of Glory, 
That same grace which threw its radiance around 
her shall make you also to shine in the “ beauty 
of holiness ;” and the fragrance of those virtues 
which it shall create, develope, and ennoble, will 
be “ as the smell of a field which the Lord hath 
blessed.” 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR, 

22 1 

Narrative and Biographical 
Pieces. 

ABDALLAH AND SABAT. 

From Dr. Buchanan’s Sermon, “The Star in the East.’ 

1. Abdallah and Sabat were intimate friends, 
and being young men of family in Arabia, they 
agreed to travel together, and to visit foreign 
countries. They were both zealous Mahome- 
tans, Sabat was son of Ibrahim Sabat, a noble 
family of the line of Beni-Sabat, who trace their 
pedigree to Mahomet. The two friends left 
Arabia, after paying their adorations at the tomb 
of their prophet at Mecca, and travelled through 
Persia, and thence to Cabul* Abdallah was ap- 
pointed to an office of state under Zemaun 
Shah, king of Cabul ; and Sabat left him there, 
and proceeded on a tour through Tartary. 

2. While Abdallah remained at Cabul, he 
was converted to the Christian faith bv the pe- 
rusal of a Bible (as is supposed) belonging to a 
Christian from Armenia, then residing at Ca- 
bul. In the Mahometan states, it is death fora 
man of rank to become a Christian — Abdallah 
endeavored for a time to conceal his conversion, 
but finding it no longer possible, he determined 
to flee to some of the Christian churches near 
the Caspian sea. He accordingly left Cabul in 

n 3 


22*2 THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 

disguise, and had gained the great city of Bo- 
chara, in Tartary, when he was met in the 
streets of that city by his friend Sabat, who im- 
mediately recognized him. 

3. Sabat had heard of his conversion and 
flight, and was filled with indignation at his con- 
duct. Abdallah knew his danger, and threw 
himself at the feet of Sabat. He confessed that 
he was a Christian, and implored him, by the 
sacred tie of their former friendship, to let him 
escape with his life. “ But, sir/* said Sabat, when 
relating the story himself, “ I had no jiity. I 
caused my servants to seize him, and I deliver- 
ed him up to Morad Shah, king of Bochara. 

4. He was sentenced to die, and a herald 
went through the city of Bochara, announcing 
the time of his execution. An immense multi- 
tude attended, and the chief men of the city. I 
also went and stood near to Abdallah. He was 
offered his life if he would abjure Christ, the 
executioner standing by him with his sword in 
his hand. 4 No/ said he, (as if the proposition 
were impossible to be complied with) 4 1 cannot 
abjure Christ.’ Then one of his hands was cut 
off at the wrist. He stood firm, his arm hang- 
ing by his side with but little motion. 

5. A physician, by desire of the king, offered 
to heal the wound, if he would recant. He made 
no answer, but looked up steadfastly towards 
heaven, like Stephen the first martyr, his eye^ 
streaming with tears. He did not look with 
anger towards me, He looked at me, but it was 
benignly, and with the countenance of forgive- 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


2 - 2*3 


ness. His other hand was then cut off. “ But, 
sir,’* said Sabat, in his imperfect English, “ he 
never changed, he never changed. And when 
he bowed his head to receive the blow of death, 
all Bochara seemed to say, ( What new thing fs 
this 


fatal presumption. 

An account of two English lords who were swal- 
lowed ufi in the falls of the Rhine. 

From the Journal of a traveller through Switzerland, in 
1794. 

1. When the following day I passed through 
Laujftnburg , I left my carriage and walked over 
the bridge in company with a man of the place, 
who, seeing me look with great attention at the 
Rhine foaming through the arches over a bed 
of rocks, said to me, pointing with his hand to 
a sharp angle — “ There the two English lords 
were swallowed ufi .** This was, in fact, the 

place where, a few months ago, Lord M 

and Mr. B made so deplorable an end. 

2. When one sees the rapid and deep course 
of the Rhine at this place, dashing its water 
through a narrow bed of rocks, presenting for 
three hundred yards acute and sharp winding 
angles, it is not easy to believe that so desperate 
an attempt would have been hazarded as that 
which cost those unfortunate young men their 

N 4 


TIIE CHRISTIAN ORATOR 



lives. They were travellers ; the beauty of the 
country tempted them to stop for a few days at 
Lauffenburg. The novelty and danger of this 
unattempted navigation excited in them the wish 
to do what other people deemed impossible. 

3. The moment their idea was known, it was 
strongly opposed ; and the opposition only 
served to confirm them in their purpose. They 
proceeded, however with some caution. They 
first pushed an empty boat into the stream, and 
unfortunately for them, and incredible as it ap- 
peared to the spectators, who had crowded both 
sides of the Rhine to see this experiment, the 
boat went through undamaged. This success, 
achieved in the presence of five hundred people, 
was a spur to the foolish pride of the two young 
Englishmen, who thought that they could not 
now relinquish their scheme without being 
laughed at. A second boat was prepared, and 
the next morning appointed for the experi- 
ment. 

4 Deputations were sent to them from the 
magistrates, who strongly remonstrated against 
the guilty madness of the enterprise, but with- 
out effect. Next came some of the clergy to 
w r arn them against perdition, and to prophecy 
certain death ; their efforts were equally unsuc- 
cessful ; and on the appointed morning they 
sallied forth, both dressed in white waistcoats 
without coats, and slippers. They gave their 
money and watches to their servants: they 
knew, therefore, that there was a great chance, 
of death. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR, 


225 


5. Mr. B — went to the boat with a heavy 
heart, and even said he would not go, and re- 
monstrated with Lord M — : but his lordship 
jumped into the boat, and said he would go 
alone ; upon which poor Mr. B — , unwilling to 
leave his friend, went in after him. They push- 
ed off*. They had each a long pole, with which 
they hoped to keep the boat clear of the rocks. 
On both shores stood an overawed multitude, 
some crying, all vociferating entreaties to desist, 
and not to rush into eternity. 

6. It was now too late : no human strength 
could have stopped the boat when once it had 
got into the rapid current. To the amaze- 
ment of the trembling spectators, they went 
unhurt over the first breakers, and, rushing 
into the foaming torrent, evaded the first threat- 
ening angle. Life was then for a few seconds 
once more in their power. They might have 
jumped on the rocks, from which they were 
not more than three or four feel distant. The 
people on the shore screamed out to them to 
do it ; instead of which, elated with this mo- 
mentary success, they huzzaed, and waved their 
hats. 

7. Alas ! blind unfortunate youths ! that sa- 
lute was a last farewell to this world : they 
were just plunging into eternity. With the 
swiftness of an arrow they were carried to a tre- 
mendous vortex : their boat was instantly over- 
set : they struggled for a short time against the 
roaring billows, swam even the space of two 

N 5 


226 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


hundred yards on their backs, calling 1 out for 
help and mercy- No help could be given. The 
distressed multitude gazed on the.- as they 
passed, and saw them swallowed up— -never to 
appear again. 

8. I did not hear this affecting narrative with 
a dry eye. The man who gave nv the par- 
ticulars of it had been himself a witness of the 
whole, and was much agitated on recounting it. 
He told me that not so much as a button 
of their waistcoat had been seen afterwards ; 
and that two English gentlemen, who had come 
on purpose from England, had staid at Luuffen- 
burg some weeks, endeavoring by every possi- 
ble contrivance to find the remains; but they 
had no success. 


SKENANDOHj THE ONEIDA CITIES 


From a New-York paper. 

1. Skenandoh, the celebrated Oneida chief? 
was well known in the wars which occurred 
while we were British colonies, and in the con- 
test which issued in our independence as the 
undeviating friend of the people of the United 
States. He was very savage, and addicted to 
drunkenness in youth ; but he lived a reformed 
man for more than sixty years, and died in 
Christian hope. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


, 227 


2. Skenandoh’s person was tall and brawny, 
but well made — his countenance was intelligent, 
and beamed with all the indigenous dignity of 
an Indian chief. In his youth he was a brave 
and intrepid warrior, and in his riper years one 
of the ablest counsellors among the North 
American tribes. He possessed a strong and 
vigorous mind ; and though terrible as the tor- 
nado in war, he was bland and mild as the zephyr 
in peace. 

3. With the cunning of the fox, the hungry 
perseverance of the wolf, and the agility of the 
mountain cat- he watched and repelled Canadian 
invasions. His vigilance once preserved from 
massacre the inhabitants of the infant settle- 
ment of German-flats. His influence brought 
his tribe to our assistance in the war of the 
Revolution. How many have been saved from 
the tomahawk and scalping knife, by his friend- 
ly aid, is not known ; but individuals and vil- 
lages have expressed gratitude for his benevo- 
lent interpositions ; and among the Indian 
tribes he was distinguished by the appellation of 
the “ White Man's Friend'' 

4. Although lie could speak but little En- 
glish, and in his extreme old age was blind, yet 
his company was sought. In conversation he 
was highly decoious, evincing that he had prof- 
ited by seeing civilized and polished society, 
and by mingling with good company in his better 
days. 

5. To a friend, who called on him a short 
lime since, he thus expressed himself by an in 


$28 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


terpreter : u I am an aged hemlock. The winds 
of an hundred winters have whistled through 
my branches : I am dead at the top. The gen- 
eration to which 1 belonged has run away and 
left me. Why I live, the great GoodSpirit 
only knows. Pray to my Jesus that I may have 
patience to wait for my appointed time to die.’* 

6 Honored chief 1 His prayer was answer- 
ed — he was cheerful and resigned to the last. 
For several years he kept his dress for the grave 
prepared. Once, and again, and again, he came 
to Clinton to die ; longing that his soul might 
be with Christ, and his body in the narrow 
house, near his beloved Christian teacher. 

7 . While the ambitious, but vulgar great, look 
principally to sculptured monuments, and to 
niches in the temple of earthly fame, Skenan- 
doii, in the spirit of the only real nobility, stood 
with his loins girded, waiting the coming of his 
Lord. 

8. His Lord has come 1 And the day ap- 
proaches when toe green hillock that covers his 
dust will be more respected than the Pyramids, 
the Mausolea,- and the Pantheons of the proud 
and imperious. His simple “ turf and stone’* 
will be viewed with affection and veneration, 
when the tawdry ornaments of human apothesis 
shall awaken only pity and disgust. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


229 


altamont. 

The following' account of an affecting, mournful 
exit, is related bi/ Dr. Young , who was / iresent 
at the melancholy scene. 

1. The sad evening before the death of that 
noble youth, whose last hours suggested these 
thoughts, I was with him. No one was there, 
but his physician, and an intimate whom he loved, 
and whom he had ruined. At my coming in, he 
said, — “ You and the physician are come too 
late — I have neither life nor hope. You both 
aim at miracles. You would raise the dead !” 

2. Heaven, I said, was merciful — “ Or,” ex- 
claimed he — “ I could not have been thus guilty. 
What has it not done to bless, and to save me ? — , 
I have been too strong for Omnipotence 1 1 have, 
plucked down ruin.” — I said, the blessed Re- 
deemer, — Hold ! hold ! you wound me ! — . 
That is the rock on which I split — I denied his 
name !” 

o. Refusing to hear any thing from me, or take 
any thing from the physician, he lay silent, as far 
as sudden darts of pain would permit, till the clock 
struck : Then with vehemence ; — “ Oh ! time 1 
time 1 it is fit thou shouldst thus strike thy mur- 
derer to the heart ! — How art thou fled for 
ever 1 — A month I Oh, for a single week 1 I ask 
not for years ; though an age were too little for 
the much I have to do.” 

4. On my saying* we could not do much 
that heaven was a blessed place 


230 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR 


« So much the worse. — *Tis lost ! Vis lost I— » 
Heaven is to me the severest part of hell 1” 

Soon after I proposed prayer. “ Pray you 
that can. I never prayed. 1 cannot pray 
Nor need I. Is not heaven on my side already ? 
It closes with my conscience. Its severest strokes 
hut second my own.” 

5. His friend being much touched, even to 
tears, at this — (who could forbear l I could not) 
with a most affectionate look, he said, “ Keep 
those tears for thyself. I have undone thee. — • 
Dost weep for me ? that’s cruel. What can pain 
xne more ? 

6. Here his friend too much affected, would 

have left him “ No, stay — thou still mayst 

hope ; — therefore hear me. How madly have I 
talk’d ! How madly hast thou listened, and be- 
lieved ! but look on mv present state, as a full 
answer to thee, and to myself. This body is all 
weakness and pain ; but my soul, as if stung up 
by torment to greater strength and spirit, is full 
powerful to reason ; full mighty to suffer. And 
that, which thus triumphs within the jaws of im- 
mortality, is, doubtless, immortal— -And as for a 
Deity, nothing less than an Almighty could in- 
flict what I feel.” 

7. I was. about to congratulate this passive, 
involuntary confessor, on his asserting the two 
prime articles of his creed, extorted by the rack 
of nature, when he thus very passionately 

a No, no.! let me speak on. I have not long to 
speak. — My much injured friend ! my soul, as 
my body, lies in ruins ; in scattered fragments of 
broken thought Remorse. for the past, throws 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


231 


my thought on the future. Worse dread of the 
future, strikes it back on the past. I turn, and 
turn, and find no ray. Didst thou feel half the 
mountain that is on me, thou would struggle with 
the martyr for his stake ; and bless Heaven for 
the flames ! — that is not an everlasting flame ; 
that is not an unquenchable fire.” 

8! How were we struck ! yet, soon after, still 
more. With what an eye of distraction, what a 
face of despair ! he cried out: — “ My principles 
have poisoned my friend ; my extravagance has 
beggared my boy ! my unkindness has murdered 
my wife ! — And is there another hell ? — Oh ! 
thou blasphemed, yet indulgent LORD GOD ! 
Hell itself is a refuge, if it hide me from thy 
frown 1” 

9. Soon after his understanding failed. His 
terrified imagination uttered horrors not to be re- 
peated, or ever forgotten. And ere the sun 
(which, 1 hope, has seen few like him) arose, the 
gay, young, noble, ingenuous, accomplished, and 
most wretched Altamont expired ! 

10. If this is a man of pleasure, what is a man 
of pain ? How quick, how total, is their transit ! 
In what a dismal gloom they set for ever ! How 
short, alas ! the day of their rejoicing !. — For a 
moment they glitter — they dazzle. 1 n a moment, 
where are they ? Oblivion covers their memo- 
ries. Ah ! would it did 1 Infamy snatches them 
from oblivion. In the^ long-living annals of in- 
famy their triumphs are recorded. Thy suffer- 
ings still bleed in the bosom, poor Altamont 1 of 
the heart-striken friend — for Altamont had a 
friend. He might have had many. 


£32 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


11. His transient morning might have been 
the dawn of an immortal day. His name might 
have been gloriously enrolled in the records of 
eternity. His memory might have left a sweet 
fragrance behind it, grateful to the surviving 
friend, salutary to the succeeding generation. 
With what capacities was he endowed ! with what 
advantages, for being greatly good ! But with the 
talents of an angel, a man may be a fool. If he 
judges amiss in the supreme point, judging right 
in all else, but aggravates his folly ; as it shows 
him wrong, though blessed with the best capaci- 
ty of being right. 


CHARLES V. EMPEROR OF GERMANY. 

1. Charles V. emperor of Germany, king 
of Spain, and lord of the Netherlands, was born 
at Ghent, in the year 1500. 

He is said to have fought sixty battles, in most 
of which he was victorious ; to have obtained six 
triumphs, conquered four kingdoms, and to have 
added eight principalities to his dominions : an 
almost unparalleled instance of worldly prosperi- 
ty, and the greatness of human glory. 

2. But all these fruits of his ambition, and all the 
honors that attended him, could not yield true and 
solid satisfaction. Reflecting on the evils and 
miseries which he had occasioned, and convinced 
of the emptiness of earthly magnificence, he be- 
came disgusted with all the splendor that sur- 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR 


233 


rounded him ; and thought it his duty to withdraw 
from it, and spend the rest ofhisdaysin religious 
retirement. 

3. Accordingly, he voluntarily resigned all his 
dominions to his brother and son; and after tak- 
ing an affectionate and last farewell of his son, 
and a numerous retinue of princes and nobility 
that respectfully attended him, he repaired to his 
chosen retreat. It was situated in Spain, in a 
vale of no great extent, watered by a small brook 
and surrounded with rising grounds, covered with 
lofty trees. 

4. A deep sense of his frail condition and great 
imperfections, appears to have impressed his 
mind in.this extraordinary resolution, and through 
the remainder of his life. As soon as he landed 
in Spain, he fell prostrate on the ground, and 
considering himself now as dead to the world, he 
kissed the earth, and said ; <k Naked came 1 out 
of my mother’s womb, and naked I now return to 
thee, thou common mother of mankind 1” 

5. In this humble retreat he spent his time in 
religious exercises and innocent employments ; 
and buried here in solitude and silence, his grand- 
eur, his ambition, together with all those vast 
projects, which for near halfa century, had alarm- 
ed and agitated Europe, and filled every kingdom 
in it, by turns, with the terror of his arms, and the 
dread of being subjected to his power. 

6. Far from taking any part in the political 
transactions of the world, he restrained his cu- 
riosity even from any inquiry concerning them ; 
and seemed to view the busy scene he had aban- 
doned, with an elevation and indifference of mind, 


2^4 


THE CHRISTIAN ORAtOK. 


which arose from his thorough experience oi it* 
vanity, as well as from the pleasing reflection ol 
having disengaged himself from its cares and 
temptations. 

7. Here he enjoyed more complete contentment, 
than all his grandeur had ever yielded him ; as 
a full proof of which he has left this short but 
compsehensive testimony : <k l have tasted more 
satisfaction in my solitude, in one day, than in all 
the triumphs of my former reign. The sincere 
study, profession, and practice of the Christian re- 
ligion, have in them such joys and sweetness, as 
are seldom found in courts and grandeur.” 


BOERHAAVE. 

1. Herman Boekhaavk, one of the greatest 
physicians, and best of men, was born in Holland, 
in the year 1668, This illustrious person whose 
name has spread throughout the world, and who 
left at his death above two hundred thousand 
pounds sterling, was, at his first setting out in life, 
obliged to teach the mathematics to obu in a nec- 
essary support. His abilities, industry, and 
great merit, soon gained him friends, placed him 
in easy circumstances, and enabled him to be 
bountiful to others. 

2. The knowledge and learning of this great 
man, however uncommon, hold, in his character* 
but the second place ; his virtue was yet much 
more uncommon than his literary attainments. 
He was an admirable example of temperance, for- 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


235 


titucle, humility, and devotion. His piety, and a 
religious sense of his dependence on God, formed 
the bads of all his virtues, and the principle of his 
whole conduct. 

3. He was too sensible of his weakness, to as- 
cribe any thing to himself, or to conceive that lie 
could subdue passion, or withstand temptation, by 
his own natural power ; he attributed every good 
thought, and every laudable action to the Father 
of Goodness. 

4. Being once asked by a friend, who had often 
admired his patience, under great provocations, 
whether he had ever been under the influence of 
anger* and by what means he had so entirely sup- 
pressed that impetuous and ungovernable passion ? 
lie answered, with the utmost frankness and sin- 
cerity, that he was naturally quick of resentment, 
but that lie had, by daily prayer and meditation, at 
length attained to this mastery over himself. 

5. As soon as he rose in the morning, it was 
through life, his daily practice to retire for an hour 
to private prayer and meditation : this, he often 
told his friends, gave him spirit and vigor in the 
business of the day, and this he therefore recom- 
mended as the best rule of life ; for nothing, he 
knew, can support the soul in all its distresses, but 
confidence in the Supreme Being ; nor can a 
steady and rational magnanimity flow from any 
other source than a consciousness of the Divine 
Favor. 

6. He asserted on all occasions the Divine 
Authority of the Holy Scriptures. The excel- 
lency of the Christian religion was the frequent 
subject of his conversation. A strict obedience 

o 


236 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR 


to the doctrine, and a diligent imitation of the ex- 
ample, of our blessed Saviour, he often declared 
to be the foundation of true tranquillity. He was 
liberal to the distressed, but without ostentation. 
He often obliged his friends in such a manner, 
that they knew not, unless by accident, to whom 
they were indebted. 

7. He was condescending to all, and particu- 
larly attentive in his profession. He used to say* 
that the life of a patiqnt, if trifled with or neglect- 
ed, would one day be required at the hand of the 
physician. He called the poor his best patients : 
for God, said he, is their paymaster. In conver- 
sation he was cheerful and instructive ; and de- 
sirous of promoting every valuable end of social 
intercourse. 

8. He never regarded calumny and detraction ; 
(for Boerhaave himself had enemies;) nor ever 
thought it necessary to confute them. u Tney 
are sparks,” said he, “ which, if you do not blow 
them, will go out of themselves. The surest 
remedy against scandal, is, to live it down by per- 
severance in well doing ; and by praying to God, 
that he would cure the distempered minds of those 
who traduce and injure us.” 

9. About the middle of the year 1737, he felt 
the first approaches of that fatal disorder which 
brought him to the grave. During his afflictive 
and lingering illness, his constancy and firmness 
did not forsake him. He neither intermitted the 
necessary cares of life, nor forgot the proper pre- 
parations for death. 

10. He related to a friend, with great concern, 
that once his patience so far gave way to extrem- 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


237 


ity of pain, that, after having lain fifteen hours in 
exquisite tortures, he prayed to God that he might 
he set free by death. His friend, by way of con- 
solation, answered, that he thought such wishes 
when forced by continued and excessive torments, 
unavoidable in the present state of human nature ; 
that the best men, even Job himself, were not 
able to refrain from such starts of impatience. 
This he did not deny, but said, “ lie that loves 
God ought to think nothing desirable, but what is 
most pleasing to the Supreme Goodness.” 

1 1. Such were his sentiments, and such his con- 
duct in this state of weakness and pain. As death 
approached nearer, he was so far from terror or 
confusion, that he seemed even less sensible of 
pain, and more cheerful under his torments. He 
died, much honored and lamented, in the 70th 
year of his age. 


CHARACTER OF GENERAL HAMILTON. 

4 

By Rev. Dr. Nott. 

1. The Man, on whom nature seems origin- 
ally to have impressed the stamp of greatness. 
Whose genius beamed from the retirement of col- 
legiate life, with a radiance which dazzled, and a 
loveliness which charmed, the eye of sages. 

2. The Hero, called from his sequestered re- 
treat, whose first appearance in the field, though 
a stripling, conciliated the esteem of Washing- 
ton, our good old father. Moving by whose 

o 2 


2SS 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


side, during all the perils of the revolution, our 
young chieftain was a contributor, to the veteran’s 
glory, the guardian of his person, and the corn- 
partner of his toils. 

3. The CoNquEUOR, who, sparing of human 
blood, when victory favored, stayed the uplifted 
arm, and nobly said to the vanquished enemy, 
“live 1” 

4. The Statesman, the correctness of whose 
principles, and. the strength of whose mind, are 
inscribed on the records of congress and on the 
annals of the council chamber. Whose genius 
impressed itself upon the constitution of his 
country ; and whose memory, the government, 
illustrious fabric, resting on this basis, will 
perpetuate while it lasts; and shaken by the 
violence of party, should it fall, which may Heaven 
avert, his prophetic declarations will be found in- 
scribed on its ruins. 

5. The Councellor, who was at once the 
pride of the bar and the admiration of the court. 
Whose apprehensions were quick as lightning- and 
whose development of truth was luminous as its 
path — Whose argument no change of circum- 
stances could embarras — Whose knowledge ap- 
peared intuitive ; and who by a single glance, and 
with as much facility as the eye of the eagle pass- 
es over the landscape, surveyed the whole held of 
controversy — saw in what way truth might be 
most successfully defended, and how error must 
be approached. And who, without ever stop- 
ping, ever hesitating, by a rapid and manly march, 
led the listening judge and the fascinated juror, 
step by Step, through a delightsome region, 
brightening as he advanced, till his argument 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


239 


rose to demonstration, and eloquence was render- 
ed useless by conviction. 

6. Whose talents were employed on the side of 
righteousness. Whose voice, whether in the 
council-chamber or at the bar of justice, was vir- 
tue’s consolation. At whose approach, oppressed 
humanity felt a secret rapture, and the heart of in- 
jured innocence leapt for joy. 

7. Where Hamilton was, in whatever sphere 
he moved, the friendless had a friend, the father- 
less a father ; and the poor man, though unable 
to reward his kindness, found an advocate. It 
was when the rich oppressed the poor — when the 
powerful menaced the defenceless— when truth 
was disregarded, or the eternal principles of jus- 
tice violated — it was on these occasions that he 
exerted all his strength. It was on these occa- 
sions. that he sometimes soared so high, and shone 
with a radiance so transcendent, I had almost said, 
so “ heavenly, as filled those around him with 
awe, and gave to him the force and authority of 
a prophet.? 

8. The Patriot, whose integrity baffled the 

scrutiny of inquisition. Whose manly virtue nev- 
er shaped itself to circumstances. Who, always 
great, always himself, stood amidst the varying 
tides of party, firm, like the rock, which, far from 
land, lifts its majestic top above the waves, and 
remains unshaken by the storms which agitate 
the ocean. , 

9. The Friend, who knew no guile. Whose 
bosom was transparent, and deep, in the bottom 
of whose heart was rooted every tender and sym- 
pathetic virtue. Whose various worth opposing 


240 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR, 


parties acknowledged while alive, and on whose 
tomb they unite with equal sympathy and grief 
to heap their honors. 


Poetry. 

THE rULPIT. 

1. The pulpit, therefore — (and I name it BUM 
With solemn awe, that bids me well beware 
With what intent I touch that holy thing) — 

The pulpit — (when the sat’rist has at last, 
Strutting and vap’ring in an empty school, 

Spent all his force, and made no proselyte) — 

I say the pulpit (in the sober use 
Of its legitimate peculiar pow’rs) 

Must stand acknowledg’d, while the world shall 
The most important and effectual guard, [stand, 
Support, and ornament, of Virtue’s cause. 

There stands the messenger of truth ; there stands, 
The legate of the skies ! — His theme divine, 

His office sacred, his credentials clear. 

By him the violated law speaks out 

Its thunders ; and by him, in strains as sweet 

As angels use, the Gospel whispers peace. 

He ’stablishes the strong, restores the weak, 
Reclaims the wand’rer, binds the broken heart, 
And, arm’d himself in panoply complete 
Of heav’nlv temper, furnishes with arms 
Bright as his own, and trains, by every rule 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR, 


241 


Of holy discipline, to glorious war, 

The sacramental host of God’s elect ! 

2. I venerate the man, whose heart is warm, 

Whose hands are pure, whose doctrine and whose 
Coincident, exhibit lucid proof [life, 

That he is honest in the sacred cause. 

To such I render more than mere respect, 
Whose actions Say that they respect themselves. 
But loose in morals, and in manners vain, 

In conversation frivolous, in dress 
Extreme, at once rapacious and profuse ; 
Frequent in park with lady at his side, 

Ambling and prattling scandal as he goes ; 

But rare at home, and never at his books, 

Or with his pen, save when he scrawls a card ; 
Constant at routs, familiar with a round 
Of ladyships, a stranger to the poor ; 

Ambitious of preferment for its geld, 

And well prepar’d, by ignorance and sloth, 

By infidelity and love of the world, 

To make God’s work a sinecure ; a slave 
To his own pleasures and his patron’s pride ; 
From such apostles, O ye mitred heads, 

Preserve the phurch ! and lay not careless hands 
On skulls that cannot teach, and will not learn. 

3. Would I describe a preacher, such as Paul, 
Were he on earth, would hear, approve, and own, 
Paul should himself direct me. I would trace 
Jlis master-strokes, and draw from his design. 

I would express him simple,’ grave, sincere ; 

In doctrine uncorrupt; in language plain, 

And plain in manner ; decent, solemn, chaste, 
And natural in gesture ; much impress’d 
Himself, as conscious of his awful charge, 
o 4 


242 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


And anxious mainly that the flock he feeds 
May feel it too ; affectionate in look, 

And tender in address, as well becomes 
A messenger of grace to guilty men. 

Behold the picture ! — Is it like ? — Like whom ? 
The things that mount the rostrum with a skip, 
And then ski]) down again; pronounce a text ; 
Cry — hem ; arid reading what they never wrote 
Just fifteen minutes, huddle up their work, 

And with a well-bred whisper close the scene ! 

4. In man or woman, but far most in man, 
And most of all in man that ministers 
And serves the altar, in my soul I loathe 
All affectation. 5 Tis my perfect scorn ; 

Object of my implacable disgust. 

What 1 will a man play tricks — will he indulge 
A silly fond conceit of his fair form, 

And just proportion, fashionable mien, 

And pretty tace, in presence of his God ? 

Or will he seek to dazzle me with tropes, 

As with the diamond on his lily hand, 

And play his brilliant parts before my eyes, 
When 1 am hungry lor the bread of life ? 

He mocks his Maker, prostitutes gnd shames 
Ilis noble office, and, instead of truth, 

Displaying his own beauty, starves his flock. 

Cow/icr , 


VERSES, 

Supposed to have been written by Alexander Selkirk, dur- 
ing bis solitary abode in the island of Juan Fernandez. 

I I am monarch of all I survey, 

My right there is none to dispute ; 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


243 


From the centre all round to the sea, 

1 am lord of the fowl and the brute. 

O Solitude ! where are the charms, 
That sages have seen in thy face ? 
Better dwell in the midst of alarms, 
Than reign in this horrible place. 

2 I am out of humanity’s reach, 

I must finish my journey alone, 

Never hear the sweet music of speech, 

I start at the sound of my own. 

The beasts that roam over the plain, 

My form with indifference see ; 

They are' so unacquainted with man, 
Their tameness is shocking to me. 

3 Society, friendship, and love, 

Divinely bestow’d upon man, 

O, had I the wings of a dove, 

How soon would I taste you again ! 
My sorrows I then might assuage 
Jn the ways of religion and truth, 
Might learn from the wisdom of age, 
And be cheer’d by the sallies of youth. 

4 Religion ! what treasure untold 

Resides in that heavenly word ! 

Mo „ precious than silver and gold, 

Or all that this earth can afford. 

But the sound of the church-going bell 
These vallies and rocks never heard, 
Never sigh’d at the sound of the knell, 

Or smil’d when a sabbath appear’d. 

5 Ye winds, that have made me your sport, 

Convey to this desolate shore, 

Some cordial endearing report 
Of a land I shall visit no more, 
o 5 


244 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


My friends, do they now and then send 
A wish or a thought after me ? 

O tell me I yet have a friend, 

Though a friend I arn never to see. 

6 How fleet is a glance of the mind! 

Compar’d with the speed of its flight, 

The tempest itself lags behind, 

And the swift-winged arrows of light. 

When I think of my own native land, 

In a moment I seem to be there ; 

But, alas ! recollection at hand m 

Soon hurries me back to despair. ( 

7 But the sea fowl is gone to her nest. 

The beast is laid down in his lair ; 

Even here is a season of rest, 

And I to my cabin repair. 

There’s mercy in every place, 

And mercy, encouraging thought. 

Gives even affliction a grace, 

And reconciles man to his lot. 

Covojiei\ 


LOVE OF THE WORLD REPROVED ; OR, HY- 
POCRISY DETECTED. 

1. Thus says the prophet of the Turk, 

Good musselman, abstain from pork ; 

There is a part in ev’ry swine, 

No friend or follower of mine 
May taste, whate’erhis inclination, 

On pain of excommunication. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR* 


245 

Such Mahomet’s mysterious charge, 

And thus he left the point at large. 

Had he the sinful part express’d, 

They might with safety eat the rest ; 

But for one piece they thought it hard 
From the whole hog to be debarr’d ; 

And set their wit at work to find 
What joint the prophet had in mind. 

Much controversy straight arose, 

These choose the back, the belly those ; 

13y *e ’tis confidently said 
He meant not to forbid the head ; 

While others at that doctrine rail, 

And piously prefer the tail. 

Thus, conscience freed from ev’ry clog, 
Mahometans eat up the hog. 

2. You laugh — ’tis w r ell — The tale applied 
May make you laugh on t’other side. 

Renounce the world — the preacher cries ; 

Wc do — a multitude replies. 

While one as innocent regards 
A snug and friendly game at cards ; 

And one, whatever you may say, 

Can see no evil in a play ; 

Some love a concert or a race ; 

And others shooting and the chase. 

Revil’d and lov’d, renounc’d and follow’d, 

Thus, bit by bit, the world is swallow’d ; 

Kach thinks his neighbor makes too free, 

Yet likes a slice as well as he : 

With sophistry their sauce they sweeten, 

Till quite from tail to snout ’tis eaten. 

Cow/ier. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


2 46 


THE ROSE. 

1. The Rose had been wash’d, just wash’d in a 

show’r, 

Wnich Mary to Anna convey’d, 

The plentiful moisture encumber’d the flow’i , 
And weigh’d down its beautiful head. 

2. The cup was all fill’d, and the leaves were all 

wet, 

And it seem’d to a fanciful view, 

To weep for the buds it had left with regret, 
On the flourishing bush where it grew. 

3. I hastily seiz’d it, unfit as it was, 

For a nosegay, so dripping and drown’d, 
And swinging it rudely, too rudely, alas 1 
I snapp'd it — it fell to the ground. 

4. And such, I exclaim’d is the pitiless part 

Some act by the delicate mind, 

Regardless oi wringing and breaking a heart 
Already to sorrow resign’d. 

5. Tins elegant rose, had I shaken it less, 

Might have bloom’d with its owner awhile; 
And the tear that is wip’d with a little address, 
May be follow’d, perhaps, by a smile. 

Cowficr f 


THE NEGRO’S COMPLAINT. 

. Forc’d from home and all its pleasures. 
Afric’s coast I left forlorn ; 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


247 


To increase a stranger’s treasures, 

O’er the raging billows borne. 

Men from England bought and sold me, 
Paid my price in paltry gold ; 

But, though slave they have enroll’d me, 
Minds are never to be sold. 

2. Still in thought as free as ever, 

What are England’s rights, I ask, 

Me from my delights to sever, 

Me to torture, me to task ? 

Fleecy locks and black complexion 
Cannot forfeit Nature’s claim ; 

Skins may differ, but affection 

Dwells in white and black the same. 

3. Why did all-creating Nature 

Make the plant for which vve toil ? 
Sighs must fan it, tears must water, 
Sweat of our’s must dress the soil. 
Think, ye masters, iron hearted, 

Lolling at your jovial boards ; 

Think how many backs have smarted 
For the sweets your cane affords. 

4. Is there, as ye sometimes tell us. 

Is there one, who reigns-on high ? 
Has he bid you buy and sell us, 

Speaking from his throne, the sky ? 
Ask him, if your knotted scourges, 
Matches, blood-extorting screws, 

Are the means that duty urges, 

Agents of his will to use ? 

5. Hark ! he answers — wild tornadoes, 

Strewing yonder sea with wrecks ; 
Wasting towns, plantations, meadows, 
Are the voice with which he speaks. 


243 


THE CHRISTIAN OKATOH, 


He, foreseeing what vexations, 

Afric’s sons should undergo, 

Fix’d their tyrants’ habitations 

Where his whirlwinds answer — No. 

6. By our blood in Afric wasted. 

Ere our necks receiv’d the chain ; 

By the mis’ries that we tasted, 

Crossing in your barks the main ; 

By our sufferings since ye brought us 
To the man-degrading mart ; 

All sustain’d by patience, taught us 
Only by a broken heart ; 

7. Deem our nation brutes no longer, 

Till some reason ye shall find 
Worthier of regard, and stronger 
Than the color of our kind. 

Slaves of gold whose sordid dealings 
Tarnish all your boasted pow’rs, 

Prove that you have human feelings, 

Ere you proudly question our’s : 

Cowficr. 


THE NIGHTINGALE AND GLOW-WORM. 

1. A nightingale, that all day long 
Had cheer’d the village with his song, 
Nor yet at eve his note suspended, 

Nor yet when eventide was ended, 

Began to feel, as well he might, 

The keen demands of appetite ; 

When, looking eagerly around, 

He spied far off, upon the ground, 

A something shining in the dark, 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


249 


And knew the glow-worm by his spark ; 

So stooping down from hawthorn top, 

He thought to put him in his crop, 

The worm, aware of his intent, 

HarranguVl him thus, right eloquent — 

2. Did you admire my lamp, quoth he, 

As much as I your minstrelsy, 

You would abhor to do me wrong, 

As much as 1 to spoil your song ; 

For ’twas the self-same pow’r divine 
Taught you to sing and me to shine ; 

That you with music, I with light, 

Might beautify and cheer the night. 

The songster heard his short oration, 

And warbling out his approbation, 

Releas’d him, as my story tells, 

And found a supper somewhere else. 

3. Hence jarring sectaries may learn 
Their real int’rest to discern ; 

That brother should not war with brother, 

And worry and devour each other; 

But sing and shine by sweet consent. 

Till life’s poor transient night is spent, 
Respecting in each other’s case 
The gifts ot nature and of grace. 

4. Those Christians best deserve the name, 
Who studiously make peace their aim ; 

Peace both the duty and the prize 

Of him that creeps and him that flies. Cow/icr, 


250 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


MUTUAL FORBEARANCE NECESSARY TO THE 

H afpiness of the married state. 

1. The lady thus addressed her spouse — 
What a mere dungeon is this house ! 

By no means large enough ; and was it, 

Yet this dull room, and that dark closet, 

Those hangings with their worn out graces, 
Long beards, long noses, and pale laces, 

Are such an antiquated scene, 

They overwhelm me with the spleen. 

Sir Humphrey shooting in the dark, 

Makes answer quite beside the mark : 

No doubt, my dear ; I bade him come, 

Engag’d myself to be at home, 

And shall expect him at the door, 

Precisely when the clock strikes four. 

2. You are so deaf, the lady cry’d, 

(And rais’d her voice, and frown’d beside,) 

You are so sadly deaf, my dear, 

What shall I do to make you hear i 

3. Dismiss poor Harry 1 he replies ; 

Some people are more nice than wise, 

For one slight trespass all this stir? 

What if he did ride whip and spur ! 

*T\vas but a mile — your fav’rite horse 
Will never look one hair the worse. 

4. Well, I protest ’iis past all bearing— 
Child ! I am rather hard of hearing — 

Yes, truly — one must scream and bawl; 

1 tell you, you can’t hear at all 1 
Then with a voice exceeding low, 

No matter if you hear or no. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


251 


5. Alas ! and is domestic strife, 

That sorest ill of human life, 

A plague so little to be fear’d, 

As to be wantonly inqurr’d, 

To gratify a fretful passion, 

On every trivial provocation ? 

The kindest and the happiest pair 
Will find occasion to forbear ; 

And something every day they live, 

To pity, and, perhaps, forgive. 

But if infirmities, that fall 
In common to the lot of all, 

A blemish or a sense impair’d 
Are crimes so little to be spar’d, 

Then farewell all that must create 
The comfort of the wedded state ; 

Instead of harmony ’tis jar, 

And tumult and intestine war. 

6. The love that cheers life’s latest stage, 
Proof against sickness and old age, 
Preserv’d by virtue from declension, 
Becomes not weary of attention ; 

But lives, when that exterior grace, 

Which first inspir’d the flame, decays. 

’Tis gentle, delicate an.d kind, 

To faults compassionate or blind, 

And will with sympathy endure 
Those evils, it would gladly cure : 

But angry, coarse* and harsh expression. 
Shows love to be a mere profession ; 

Proves that the heart is noheof his, 

Or soon expels him if it is. Cowfier. 


252 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


THE MAN PERISHING IN THE SNOW STORM. 

1. As thus the snows arise ; and foul, andfierce. 
All winter drives along the darken’d air ; 

In his own loose-revolving fie ds, the swain 
Disaster’d stands ; sees other hills ascend, 

Of unknown joyless brow ; and other scenes* 

Of horrid prospect, shag the trackless plain : 
Nor finds the river, nor the forest, hid 
Beneath the formless wild ; but wanders on 
From hill to dale, still more and more astray ; 
Impatient flouncing through the drifted heaps, 
Stung with the tho’ts of home ; the tho’ts of 
home 

Rush on his nerves, and call their vigor forth 
In many a vain attempt. How sinks his soul ! 
What black despair, what horror fills his heart ! 
When for the dusky spot, which fancy feign’d 
His tufted cottage rising through the snow, 

He meets the roughness of the middle waste, 
Far from the track, and blest abode of man ; 
While round him night resistless closes fast, 
And every tempest howling o’er his head, 
Renders the savage wilderness more wild. 

Then throng the busy shapes into his mind, 

Of covered pits, unfuthomably deep, 

A dire descent ! beyond the power of frost ; 

Of faithless bogs ; of precipices huge 
Smooth’d up with snow : and, what is land, un- 
known, 

What water, of the still unfrozen spring, 

In the loose marsh, or solitary lake, 

Where the fresh fountain from the bottom boils. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


2 h> O 

These check his fearful steps ; and down he 
sinks 

Beneath the shelter of the shapeless drift, 
Thinking o’er ail the bitterness of death, 

Mix’d with the tender anguish Nature shoots 
Through the wrung bosom of the dying man, 
His wife, his children, and his frier.ds unseen. 

2. In vain for him th’ officious wife prepares 
The fire fair-blazing, and the vestment warm ; 
In vain his little children, peeping out 
Into the mingling storm, demand their sire 
With teats of artless innocence. Alas! 

Nor wife nor children more shall he behold, 
Nor friends, nor sacred home. On every nerve 
The deadly winter seizes, shuts up sense, 

And o’er his inmost vitals, creeping cold, 

Lays him along the snows a stiffened corse, 
Stretch'd out and bleaching in the northern 
blast. 

3. Ah 1 little think the gay licentious proud, 
\V bom pleasure, pow er. and affluence surround ; 
They 5 who their thought less hours in giddy 
mirth, 

And wanton, often cruel, riot waste; 

Ah ! little think they, while they dance along, 
How many feel, this vety moment, death, 

And all the sad variety of pain ! 

How many sink in the devouring flood, 

Or more devouring flame 1 How many bleed, 
By shameful variance betwixt man and man ! 
How many pine in want arid dungeon glooms. 
Shut from the common air and common use 
Of their own limbs ! How many drink the cup 

p 


254 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


Of baleful grief, or eat the bitter bread 
Of misery i Sore pierc’d by wint’ry winds, 

How many shrink into the sordid hut 
Of cheerless poverty How many shake 
With all the fiercest tortures of the mind, 
Unbounded passion, madness, guilt, remorse ; 
Whence tumbled headlong from the height of 
life, 

They furnish matter for the tragic Muse ! 

4. E’en in the vale, where wisdom loves to 
d\' ell, 

With friendship, peace, and contemplation join’d, 
How many, rack’d with honest passions, droop 
In deep retired distress ! How many stand 
Around the death-bed of their dearesr friends, 
And point the parting anguish ! Thought fond 
man 

Of these, and all the thousand nameless ills 
That one incessant struggle render life, 

One scene of toil, of suffering, and of fate ; 

Vice in his high career would stand appall’d, 
And heedless rambling impulse learn to think : 
The conscious heart of charity would warm, 
And her wide wish benevolence dilate ; 

The social tear would rise, the social sigh ; 

And into clear perfection, gradual bliss, 
Refining still, the social passions work. 

Thomson „ 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR, 


2 55 


THE TWO GARDENERS. 

1. Two gardeners once beneath an oak, 

Lay down to rest, when Jack thus spoke — 

“ You must confess, dear Will, that Nature 
Is but a biund’ring kind of creature ; 

And I — nay, why that look of terror ? 

Could teach her how to mend her error.” 

“ Your talk,” quoth Will, is bold and odd, 
What you call Mature, I call God.” 

Well, call him by what name you will,” 

Quoth Jack, “ he manages but ill ? 

Nay, from the very tree we’re under, 

I’ll prove that Providence can blunder.” 

Quoth Will, u Through thick and thin you dash, 
I shudder, Jack, at words so rash ; 

I trust to what the Scriptures tell, 

He hath done always dl things well.” 

2 Quoth Jack, “ I’m lately grown a wit, 

And think all good a lucky hit. 

To prove that Providence can err, 

Not words, but facts, the truth aver. 

To this vast oak lift up thine eyes, 

Then view that acorn’s paltry size ; 

How foolish on a tree so tail, 

To place that tiny cup and ball. 

Now look again yon porupion* see, 

It weighs two pounds at least, nay three ; 

Yet this large fruit, where is it found ? 

Why, meanly trailing on the ground. 

Had Providence ask’d my advice, 

* A Gourd. 

P 3 


256 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


I would have chang’d it in a trice ; 

I would have said at Nature’s birth, 

Let acorns creep upon the earth ; 

But let the pompion, vast and round, 

On the oak’s lofty boughs be found.” 

3. He said— and as he rashly spoke, 

Lo ! from the branches of the oak, 

A wind, which suddenly arose, 

Beat show’rs of acorns on his nose ; 

“ Oh 1 oh 1” quoth Jack, “ I’m wrong I see* 

And God is wiser far than me. 

For did a show’r of pompions large, 

Thus on my naked face discharge, 

I had been bruis’d and blinded quite, 

What Heav’n appoints 1 find is right ; 

Whene’er I’m tempted to rebel, 

I’ll think how light the acorns fell ; 

Whereas on oaks had pompions hung, 
broken skull had stopp’d my tongue.” 

II. More, . 


GAIETY. 

1. It is the constant revolution, stale 
And tasteless, of the same repeated joys, 

That palls and satiates, and makes languid life 
A pedlar’s pack, that bows the bearer down. 
Health suffers, and the spirits ebb, the heart 
Recoils lrom its own choice — at the full feast 
Is famish’d — finds no music in the song, 

No smartness in the jest ; and wonders why. 
Yet thousands still desire to journey on, 
Though halt, and weary of the path they treat* 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


257 


The paralytic, who can hold her cards, 

But cannot play them, borrows a friend’s hand 
To deal and shuffle, to divide and sort 
Her mingled suits and sequences ; and sits, 
Spectatress both and spectacle, a sad 
And silent cypher, while her proxy plays. 

Others are dragged into the crowded room 
Bet ween supporters ; and, once seated, sits, 
Through downright inability to rise. 

Till the stout bearers lift the corpse again. 
These speak a loud momento. Yet e’en these 
Themselves love life, and cling to it, as he 
That overhangs a torrent, to a twig. 

They love it, and yet loathe it ; fear to die, 

Yet scorn the purposes for which they live. 

Then wherefore not renounce them ? No — the 
dread, 

The slavish dread of solitude, that breeds 
Reflection and remorse, the fear of shame, 

And their invet’rate habits, all forbid. 

2. Whom call we gay ? That honor has been 
long 

The boast of mere pretenders to the name. 

The innocent are gay — the lark is gay, 

That dries his feathers, saturate with dew, 
Beneath the rosy cloud, while yet the beams 
Of dayspring overshoot his humble nest. 

The peasant too, a witness of his song,. 

Himself a songster, is as gay as he. 

But save me from the gaiety of those, 

Whose headaches nail them to a noonday bed ; 
And save me too from theirs, whose haggard 
eyes 

Flash desperation, and betray their pangs 
r 3 


258 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


For property stripp’d off by cruel chance ; 

From gaiety, that fills the bones with pain, 

The mouth with blasphemy, the heart with wo. 

Cow/ier . 


Dialogues. 

TRUE AND FALSE PHILANTHROPY. 

A Dialogue between Mr. Fantom and Mr. Trueman. 

Fantom. I despise a narrow field. O for the 
reign of universal benevolence ! I want to make 
all mankind good and happy. 

Trueman . Dear me 1 sure that must be a 
wholesale sort of a job : had not you better try 
your hand at a town or a parish first ? 

Fantom. Sir, I have a plan in my head for reliev- 
•ing the miseries of the whole world. Every thing 
is bad as it now stands. I would alter all the 
laws, and do away all the religiohs, and put an 
end to all the wars in the world. I would every 
where redress the injustice of fortune, or what 
the vulgar call, Providence. I would put an end 
to all punishments ; I would not leave a single 
prisoner on the face of the globe. This is what 
I call doing things on a grand scale. 

Trueman. A scale with a vengeance 1 As to 
releasing the prisoners, however, I do not so 
much like that, as it would be liberating a few 
rogues at the expense of all honest men ; but as 
to the rest of your plan, if all Christian countries 
would be so good as to turn Christians, it might 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


2j9 


be helped on a good deal. There would be still 
misery enough left indeed ; because God intend- 
ed this world should be earth and not heaven. 
But, sir, among all your abolitions, you must 
abolish human corruption before you can make 
the world quite as perfect as you pretend. You 
philosophers seem to me to be ignorant of the 
very first seed and principle of misery — sin, sir 
sin : Your system of reform is radically defect- 
ive ; for it does not comprehend that sinful na- 
ture from which all misery proceeds. 

Fantom . Your project would rivet the chains 
which mine is designed to break. 

Trueman. Sir, I have no projects. Projects 
are in general the offspring of restlessness, vanity 
and idleness. I am too busy for projects, too 
contented for theories, and, I hope, have too much 
honesty and humility for a philosopher. The ut- 
most extent of my ambition at present is, to re- 
dress the wrongs of a parish apprentice, who has 
been cruelly used by his master : indeed I have 
another little scheme, which is to prosecute a 
fellow in our street who has suffered a poor 
wretch in a workhouse, of which he had the care, 
to perish through neglect, and you must assist 
me. 

Fantom. The parish must do that. You must 
not apply to me for the redress of such petty 
grievances. I own that the wrongs of the Poles 
and South-Americans so fill my mind, as to leave 
me no Ume to attend to the petty sorrows of work- 
houses and parish apprentices. It is provinces, 
empires, continents, that the benevolence of the 
p 4 


260 


TIIE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


philosopher embraces ; every one can Ao a little 
paltry good to his next neighbor. 

Trueman . Every one can, but I do not see 
that every one does. If they would, indeed, your 
business would be ready done to your hands, and 
your grand ocean of benevolence would be filled 
with the drops which private charity would throw 
into it, I am glad, however, you are such a 
friend to the prisoners, because I am just now get- 
ting a little subscription from our club, to set tree 
your poor old friend Tom Saunders, a very honest 
brother tradesman, who got first into debt, and 
then into jail, through no fault of his own, but 
merely through the pressure of the times. We 
have each of us allowed a trifle every week to- 
wards maintaining Tom’s young family since he 
has been in prison ; but we think we shall do 
much more service to Saunders, and indeed in the 
end lighten our own expense, by paying down at 
once a little sum to restore to him the comforts 
of life, and put him in a way of maintaining his 
family again. We have made up the money all 
except five guineas ; I am already promised four, 
and you have nothing to do but give me the filth. 
And so for a single guinea, without any of the 
trouble, the meetings, and the looking into his 
affairs, which we have had ; which, let me tell 
you, is the best, and to a man of business the dear- 
est part of charity, you will at once have the pleas- 
ure (and it is no small one) of helping to save a 
worthy family from starving, of redeeming an old 
friend from jail, and o^ putting a little of your 
boasted benevolence into action. Realize ! 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


261 


master Fantom : there is nothing like realiz- 
ing. 

Fantom. « Why, hark ye, Mr. Trueman, do 
not think I value a guinea ; no sir, I despise 
money ; it is trash, it is ciirt, and beneath the re- 
gard of the wise man. It is one of the unfeeling 
inventions of artificial society. Sir, I could talk 
to you for half a day on the abuse of riches, and 
on iny own contempt of money.” 

Trueman . O pray do not give yourself the 
trouble ; it will be an easier way by half of vindi- 
cating yourself from one, and of proving the 
other, just to put your hand in your pocket, and 
give me a guinea, without saying a word about 
it : and then to you who value time so much, and 
money so littie, it will cut the matter short. 
But come now (for I see you will give nothing) 
I should be mighty glad to know what is the 
sort of good you do yourselves, since you always 
object to what is done by others. 

Fantom. Sir, the object of a true philosopher is 
to diffuse light and know 7 ledge. I wish to see the 
whole world enlightened. 

Trueman . Well, Mr. Fantom, you are a won- 
derful man to keep up such a stock of benevolence 
at so small an expense. To love mankind so dear- 
ly, and yet avoid all opportunities of doing them 
good; to have such a noble zeal for the millions, and 
to fee), so little compassion for the units ; to long to 
free empires and enlighten kingdoms ; and yet 
deny instruction to your own village, and com- 
fort to your own family. Surely none but a phi- 
losopher could indulge so much philanthropy and 
so much frugality at the same time. But come, 
p 5 


262 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR, 


do assist me in a partition I am making in our 
poorhouse, between the old, whom I want to have 
better fed, and the young, whom I want to have 
more worked. 

Fantom. Sir, my min'd is so engrossed with the 
partition of Poland, that I cannot bring it down to 
an object of such insignificance. I despise the 
man whose benevolence is swallowed up in the 
narrow concerns of his own family, or parish, or 
country. 

Trueman. Well, now I have a notion that it is 
as well to do one’s own duty, as the duty of 
another man ; and that to good at home, is as well 
as to do good abroad. For my part i had as iieve 
help Tom Saunders to freedom, as a Pole or a 
South American, though I should be very glad to 
help them too. But one must begin to love 
somewhere, and to do good somewhere ; and I 
think it is as natural to love one’s own family, and 
toMo good in one’s own neighborhood, as to any* 
body else. And if every man in every family, par- 
ish, and county did the same, why then all the 
schemes would meet, and the end of one parish, 
where I was doing good, would be the beginning of 
another parish where somebody else was doing 
good ; so my schemes would jut into my neigh- 
bor’s ; his projects would unite with those of 
some other local reformer ; and all would fit with 
a sort of dovetail exactness. And what is better, 
all would join in furnishing a living comment on 
that practical precept : u Thou shalt love the 
Lord thy God with all thy heart, and thy neighbor 
as thyself.” 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


263 


Fantom . Sir, a man of large views will be on 
the watch for great occasions to prove his benev- 
olence. 

Trueman. Yes, Sir ; but if they are so distant 
that they cannot reach them, or so vast that he 
cannot grasp them, he may let a thousand little, 
snug, kind, good actions slip through his fingers 
in the meanwhile : and so between the great 
things that he cannot do, and the little ones that 
he will not do, life passes and nothing will be 
done. 


ON THE EDUCATION OF DAUGHTERS. 

A Dialogue between two wealthy Farmers, 

Worthy. Mr. Bragwell, in the management of 
my family, I don’t consider what 1 might afford 
only, though that is one great point ; but I con- 
sider also what is needful and becoming in a man 
of my station ; for there are so many useful ways 
of laying out money, that I feel as if it were a sin 
to spend one unnecessary shilling — Having had 
the blessing of a good education myself, I have 
been able to give the like advantage to my daugh- 
ters. One of the best lessons I have taught them 
is, to know themselves ; and one proof that they 
have learnt this lesson is, that they are not above 
any of the duties of their station. They read and 
write well, and when my eyes are bad, they keep 
my accounts in a very pretty manner. If I had 
put them to learn what you call genteel things> 


254 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


these might either have been of no use to them, 
and so both time and money might have been 
thrown away ; or they might have proved worse 
than nothing to them by leading them into wrong 
notions, and wrong company. As to their ap- 
pearance, they are every day nearly as you see 
them now, and on Sundays they are very neatly 
dressed, but it is always in a decent and modest 
way. There are no lappets, fringes, furbelows, 
and tawdry ornaments ; no trains, turbans, and 
flounces, fluttering about among my cheese and 
butter. And 1 should feel no vanity, but much 
mortification, if a stranger, seeing farmer Wor- 
thy’s daughters at church, snoulci ask who those 
fine Jadi«s were. 

Bragwtll Now I own I should like to have 
such a question asked concerning my daughters. 
I iike to make people stare and envy. It makes 
one feel oneself somebody. I never led the 
pleasure of having handsome things so much as 
when I see they raise curiosity : and 1 enjoy the 
envy of others as a fresh evidence of my own pros- 
perity. But as to yourself, to be sure, you best 
know what you can afford : and indeed there is 
some difference between your daughters and the 
Miss Bragwells. 

Worthy. For my part, before I engage in any 
expense, I always ask myself these two short 
questions ; First, can 1 afford it r — Secondly, is it 
proper for me ? 

Bragwell. Do you so l Now I own I ask my- 
self but one; for if I find I can afford it, l take 
care to make it proper for me. If I can pay for a 
thing, no one has a right to hinder me from hav- 
ing it. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


365 


Worthy. Certainly ; but a man’s own prudence , 
his love of propriety and sense of duty, ought to 
prevent him from doing an improper thing, as ef- 
fectually as if there were somebody to hinder 
him. 

Bragwell. Now, I think a man is a fool who is 
hindered from having any thing he has a mind to ; 
unless, indeed, he is in want of money to pay for 
it. I am no friend to debt. A poor man must 
want, on. . 

Worthy . But I hope my children have learnt 
not to want any thing which is not proper for 
them. They are very industrious ; they attend to 
business all day, and in the evening they sit down 
to their work and a good book. I take care that 
neither their reading nor conversation shall ex- 
cite any desires or tastes unsuitable to their con- 
dition. They have little vanity, because the kind 
of knowledge they have is of too sober a sort to 
raise admiration ; and from that vanity which at- 
tends a little smattering of frivolous accomplish:- 
ments, I have secured them, by keeping them in 
total ignorance of all such. I think they live in 
the fear of God. I trust they are humble and 
pious, and I am sure they seem cheerful and 
happy. If I am sick, it is pleasant to see them disr 
pute which shall wait upon me ; for they say the 
maid cannot do it so tenderly as themselves. 

Bra gw ell. But my girls are too smart to make 
mopes of, that is the truth. Though ours is such 
a lonely village, it is wonderful to see how soon 
they get the fashions. What with the descriptions 
in the magazines, and the pictures in the pocket- 
fceoks? they have them in a twinkling, aad out-d? 


266 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR, 


their patterns all to nothing. I used to take in 
the Country Journal, because it was useful enough 
to see how oats went, the time of high water, and 
the price of stocks. But when my ladies came 
home, forsooth, I was soon wheedled out of that, 
and forced to take a London paper, that tells a 
deal about caps and feathers, and all the trumpery 
of the quality, and the French dress and the 
French undress. When I want to know what 
hops are a bag, they are snatching the paper to 
see what violet soap is a pound. And as to the 
dairy, they never care how cow’s milk goes, as 
long as they can get some stuff which they call 
milk of roses. Seeing them disputing violently 
the other day about cream and butter, I thought 
it a sign they were beginning to care for the farm, 
till I found it was cold cream for the hands, and 
jessamine butter for the hair. 

Worthy. But do your daughters never read ? 

Bragwell. Read ! 1 believe they do too. Why 
our Jack the plough-boy, spends half his time in 
going to a shop in our market town, where they 
let out books to read with marble covers. And 
they sell paper with all manner of colors on the 
edges, and gimcracks, and powder-puffs, and 
Avash-balls, and cards without any pips, and every 
eliing in the world that’s genteel and of no use. 
3 Twas but the other day I met Jack with a bas- 
ket full of these books ; so having some time to 
spare, I sat down to see a little what they were 
.about. 

Worthy . Well, I hope you there found what 
was likely to improve your daughters, and teach 
them the true use of time. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


267 


Bragwell. O, as to that, you are pretty rrmch 
out. I could make neither head nor tail of itT it 
was neither fish, flesh, nor good red-herring: it 
was all about my lord, and sir Harry, and the 
captain. But I never met with such nonsensical 
fellows in my life. Their talk was no more like 
that of my old landlord, who was a lord you know, 
nor the captain of our fencibles,than chalk is like 
cheese. I was fairly taken in at first, and began 
to think I had got hold of a godly book ; for there 
was a deal about hope and despair, and death, and 
heaven, and angels and torments, and everlasting 
happiness. But when I got a little on, I found 
there was no meaning in all these words, or if 
any, it was a bad meaning. Eternal misery, per- 
haps, only meant a moment’s disappointment 
about a bit of a letter ; and everlasting happiness 
meant two people talking nonsense together for 
five minutes. In short, I never met with such a 
pack of lies. The people talk such wild gibber- 
ish as no folks in their sober senses ever did talk ; 
and the things that happen to them are not like 
the things that ever happen to me or any of my 
acquaintance. They are at home one minute, 
and beyond sea the next : beggars to-day, and 
lords to-morrow : waiting maids in the morning, 
and dutchesses at night- Nothing happens in a 
natural gradual way, as it does at home ; they 
grow rich by the stroke of a wand, and poor by 
the magic of a word; the disinherited oiphan of 
this hour is the overgrown heir of the next : now 
a bride and bridegroom turn out to be brother and 
sister, and the brother and sister prove to be no 
relations at all. You and 1, master Worthy, have 


268 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


worked hard many years, and think it very well 
to Mve scraped a trifle of money together ; you 
a few hundreds I suppose, and I a few thousands. 
But one would think every man in these books 
had the bank of England in his ’scrutore. Then 
there is another thing which I never met with in 
true life. We think it pretty well, you know, if 
one has got one thing, and another has got another. 
I will tell you how I mean. You are reckoned 
sensible, our parson is learned, the squire is rich, 
I am rather generous, one of your daughters is 
pretty, and both mine are genteel. But in these 
books (except here and there one, whom they 
make worse than Satan himself) every man and 
woman’s child of them, are all wise, and witty, 
and generous, and rich, and handsome, and gen- 
teel ; and all to the last degree. Nobody is mid- 
dling, or good in one thing, and bad in another, 
like my live acquaintance ; but it is all up to the 
skies, or down to the dirt. I had rather read Tom 
Hickathrift,or Jack the Giant Killer, a thousand 
times. 

Worthy. You have found out, Mr. Bragwell, 
that many of these books are ridiculous ; I will 
go farther and say, that to me they appear wicked 
also : and I should account the reading of them a 
great mischief, especially to people in middling 
and low life, if I only took into the account the 
great loss of time such reading causes, and the 
aversion it leaves behind for what is more serious 
and solid. But this, though a bad part, is not the 
worst. These books give false views of human 
life. They teach a contempt for humble and do- 
mestic duties ; for industry, frugality and retire- 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 269 

ment. Want of youth and beauty is considered 
in them as ridiculous. Plain people, like you 
and me, are objects of contempt. Parental au- 
thority is set at nought. Nay, plots and contri- 
vances against parents and guardians, fill half the 
volumes. They consider love as the great busi- 
ness of human life, and even teach that it is im- 
possible for this love to be regulated or restrain- 
ed ; and to the indulgence of this passion every 
duty is therefore sacrificed. A country life, with 
a kind mother or a sober aunt, is described as a 
state of intolerable misery : and one would be 
apt to fancy from their painting, that a good coun- 
try house is a prison, and a worthy father the 
jailer. Now tell me, do not you think these wild 
books will hurt your daughters ? 

Bragwell. W hy I do think they are grown 
full of schemes, and contrivances, and whispers, 
that’s the truth on’t. Every thing is a secret. 
They always seem to be on the look-out for some- 
thing, and when nothing comes on’t then they 
are sulkey and disappointed. They will not keep 
company with their equals : they will hardly sit 
down with a substantial country dealer. But if 
they hear of a recruiting party in our market- 
town, on goes the finery— -off they are. Some 
flimsy excuse is patched up. They want some- 
thing at the book-shop or the milliner’s ; because 
I suppose there is a chance some ensign may be 
there buying sticking-plaster. In short, I do 
grow a little uneasy ; for I should not like to see 
all I have saved thrown away on a knapsack. 


270 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATO'R. 


ON THE DUTY OF CARRYING RELIGION INTO 
OUR COMMON BUSINESS. 

A Dialogue between a Shoemaker aiul his Apprentice. 

Will, How comfortably we live now, master, 
to what we used to do in William’s time 1 I used 
then never to be happy but when we were keep- 
ing it up all night, but now I am as merry as the 
day is long. I find I am twice as happy since I 
am grown good and sober. 

Stock. I am glad you are happy, Will, and I 
rejoice that you are sober ; but 1 would not have 
you take too much pride in your own goodness , 
for fear it should become a sin, almost as great 
as some of those you have left off. Besides X 
W'culd not have you make quite so sure that you 
are good. 

Will. Not good, master ! why don’t you find 
me regular and orderly at work ? 

Stock. Very much so ; and accordingly I have 
a great respect for you. 

Will. I pay every one his own, seldom miss 
church, have not been drunk since Williams 
died, have handsome clothes for Sundays, and 
save a trifle every week. 

Stock. All these things are very right as far 
as they go, and you could not well be a Christian 
without doing them. But I shall make you 
stare, perhaps, when I tell ymu, you may do all 
these things, and many more, and yet be no 
Christian. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


27.1 


Will. No Christian ! surely, master I do hope 
that after all I have done, you will not be so un- 
kind as to say I am no Christian. 

Stock, God forbid that I should say so, Will 
I hope better things of you. But come now«. 
what do you think it is to be a Christian ? 

Will., What 1 why to be christened when one 
is a child ; to learn the catechism when one can 
read ; to be confirmed when one is a youth ; and 
to go to church when one is a man. 

Stock. These are all very proper things, and 
quite necessary. They make part of a Chris- 
tian’s life. But for all that, a man may be exact 
in them all. and yet not be a Christian. 

Will. Why sure, master, you won’t be so un- 
reasonable as to want a body to be religious al- 
ways ? I can’t do that neither. I’m not such a 
hypocrite as to pretend to it. 

Stock. Yes, you can be so in every action of 
your life 1 

Will. What, master, always to be thinking 
about religion ? 

Stock. No, f;ir from it, Will ; much lfcss to 
be always talking about it. But you must be al- 
ways acting under its power and spirit. 

Will. But surely ’tis pretty well if I do this 
when I go to church ; or while 1 am saying my 
prayers. Even you, master, as strict as you are, 
would not have me always on my knees, nor al- 
ways at church, I suppose : for then how would 
your work be carried on, and how would our 
town be supplied with shoes ? 

Stock. Very true ; Will. ’Tvvould be no 
proof of our religion to let our customers go bare- 
Q. 


272 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR* 


foot ; but ’twould be a proof of our laziness, and 
we should starve, as we ought to do. The busi- 
ness of the world must not only be carried on, 
but carried on with spirit and activity. We have 
the same authority for not being slothful in bust - 
ness* as we have for being fervent in spirit. But 
still, a Christian does not carry on his common 
trade quite like another man neither ; for some- 
thing of the spirit which he labors to attain at 
church, he carries with him into his worldly con- 
cerns. 

Will. Why, Master, 1 do think, if God Al- 
mighty is contented with one day in seven, he 
won’t thank you for throwing him the other six 
into the bargain. I thought he gave us them for 
our own use ; and I am sure nobody works 
harder all the week than you do. 

Stock. God, it is true, sets apart one day in 
seven for actual rest from labor, and for more im- 
mediate devotion to his service. But show me 
that text wherein he says, thou shalt love the Lord 
thy God on Sundays*— Thou shalt keep my com- 
mandments on the Sabbath day — To be carnally 
minded on Sundays t is death — Cease to do evil, 
and learn to do well one day in seven — Grow in 
grace on the Lord's day — Is there any such 
text ? 

Will. No, to be sure there is not; for that 
would be encouraging sin on all the other days. 

Stock . Yes, just as you do when you make 
religion a thing for the church, and not for the 
world. There is no one lawful calling, in pur- 
suing which we may not serve God acceptably. 
You and I may serve him while we are stitching 


THE CHRISTIAN" ORATOR. 


273 


this pair of boots. Farmer Furrow, while he is 
plowing yonder field. Betsy West, over the way, 
whilst she is nursing her sick mother. Neigh- 
bor Incle, in measuring out his t ip. s and ribands. 
I say, all these may serve God just as acceptably 
in those employments as at church, I had almost 
said more so. 

Will. Well, I own I don’t yet see how I am 
to be religious when I am hard at work, or busy 
settling an account. I can’t do two things at 
once ; ’tis as it I were to pretend to make a shoe 
and cut out a boot at the same moment. 

Stock . i tell you both must subsist together. 
Nay the one must be the motive to the other. 
God commands us to be industrious, and if we 
love him, the desire of pleasing him should be 
the main spring of our industry. 

Will. I don’t see now X can always be think- 
ing about pleasing God. 

Stock. Suppose, now, a man had a wife and 
children whom he loved, and wished to serve; 
would not he he often thinking about them while 
he was at work ? and though he would not be 
always thinking nor always talking about them, 
yet would not the very love he bore them be a 
constant spur to his industry ? He would always 
be pursuing the same course from the same mo- 
tive, though his words and even his thoughts 
must often be taken up in the common transac- 
tions of life. 

Will. I say first one, then the other ; now for 
labor, now for religion. 

Stock. I will show that both must go together. 
X will suppose you were going to buy so many 
q 2 


2F4 THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 

skins of our currier — that is quite a worldly 
transaction — you can’t see what a spirit of re- 
ligion has to do Vvith buying a few calves’ skins. 
ls T ow, I tell you it has a great deal to do vvith it- 
Covetousness, a desire to make a good bargain, 
may rUe up in your heart. Selfishness, a spirit 
of monopoly, a wish to get all in order to dis- 
tress others ; these are evil desires, and must 
be subdued Some opportunity of unfair gain 
offers, in which there may be much sin, and yet 
little scandal Here a Christian will stop short ; 
lie will recollect, That he who maketh haute to he 
■rich shall hardly be innocent. Perhaps ihe sin 
may be on the side of your dealer — he may 
want to overreach you — this is provoking — you 
are tempted to violent anger, perhaps to swear ; 
liere is a fresh demand on you for a spirit of 
patience and moderation, as there was before 
for a spirit of justice and self-denial. If, by 
God’s grace, you get the victory over these 
temptations, you are the better man for having 
been called out to them ; always provided, that; 
the temptations be not of your own seeking. 

Will. Well, master, you have a comical way, 
somehow, of coming over one I never should 
have thought there would have been any relig- 
ion wanted in buying and selling a few calves’ 
skins- But, I begin to see there is a good deal 
in what you say. And whenever 1 am doing a 
common action, I will try to remember that it 
must be done after a godly sort . 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


275 


DANIEL IN THE LIONS’ DEN. 


Scent — The court of the fialace . — The sun rising. 

DARIUS, ARASPES. 

Bar. Oh, good Araspes ! what a night of hor- 
ror ! 

To me the dawning day brings no return 
Of cheerfulness or peace ! No balmy sleep 
Has seal’d these eyes, no nourishment has pass’d 
These loathing lips, since Daniel’s fate was 
sign’d ! 

Hear what my fruitless penitence resolves — 
That thirty days my rashness had decreed 
The edict’s force should last, I will devote 
To mourning and repentance, fasting, pray’r, 
And all due rites of grief. For thirty days 
No pleasant sound of dulcimer or harp, 

Sackbut or flute or psaltery, shall charm 
My ear, now dead to every note of joy l 
Aras . My grief can know no period ! 

Bar. See that den ! 

There Daniel met the furious lions’ rage ! 
There were the patient martyi’s mangled limbs 
Torn piece-meal ! Never hide thy tears, Aras- 
pes ; 

*Tis virtuous sorrow, unallay’d, like mine, 

By guilt and fell remorse ! Let us approach : 
Who knows but that dread pow’r to whom he 
pray’d 


276 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


So often and so fervently, has heard him ! 

[~ He goes to the mouth of the den . 
O, Daniel, servant of the living God ! 

He whom thou hast serv’d so long, and lov’d so 
well, 

From the devouring lions* famish*d jaw, 

Can he deliver thee ? 

Dan. from the bottom of the den.') He can — 
he has 1 

Dar. Methought I heard him speak ! 

Aras . O. wond’rous force 

Of strong imagination I were thy voice 
Loud as the trumpet’s blast, it could not wake 
him 

From that eternal sleep ! 

Dan. (in the den.) Hail, king Darius ! 

The God I serve has shut the lions’ mouth, 

To vindicate my innocence. 

Dar. He speaks ! 

He lives 1 

Aras. ’Tis no illusion : *tis the sound 
Of his known voice. 

Dar. Where are my servants? Haste, 

Fly, ‘swift as lightning, free him from the den ; 
Release him, bring him hither 1 Break the seal 
Which keeps him from me ! — See, Araspes ! 
look ! 

See the charm’d lions ! — Mark their mild de- 
meanor : 

Araspes, mark ! — they have no pow*r to hurt 
him l 

See how they hang their heads and smooth their 
fierceness 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


2 77 


At his mild aspect ! 

Aras . Who that sees this sight, 

Who that in after-times shall hear this told, 
Can doubt if Daniel’s God be God indeed? 

Bar. None, none, Araspes ! 

Aras. Ah, he comes, he comes 1 

Enter Daniel followed by multitudes . 

Ban. Hail, great Darius ! 

Bar . Dost thou live indeed ! 

And live unhurt? 

Aras. O, miracle of joy ! 

Bar. I scarce can trust my eyes! How didst 
thou ’scape ? 

Ban. That bright and glorious Being, who 
vouchsaf'd 

Presence divine, when the three martyr’d broth- 
ers 

Essay’d the caldron’s flame, supported me ! 
E’en in the furious lions’ dreadful den, 

The prisoner of hope even there 1 turn’d 
To the strong hold, the bulwark of my strength, 
Ready to hear, and mighty to redeem ! 

Bar. (/o Aras.) Where is Pharnaces ? Take 
the hoary traitor ! 

Take too Soranus, and the chief abettors 
Of this dire edict : let not one escape. 

The punishment their deep-laid hate devis’d 
For holy Daniel, on their heads shall fall 
With tenfold vengeance. To the lions’ den 
1 doom his vile accusers ! All their wives, 
Their children, too, shall share one common 
fate ! 


278 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR 


Take care that none escape — Go, good Araspes- 

\_ArasJies goes out. 

Dan. Not so, Darius ! 

O spare the guiltless; spare the guilty too 1 
Where sin is not to punish were unjust; 

And where sin is- O king, there fell remorse 
Supplies the place of punishment ! 

Lar. No more ! 

My word is past 1 Not one request, save this, 
Shalt thou e’er make in vain. Approach my 
friends : 

Araspes has already spread the tale, 

And see what crowds advance 1 

Pea. Long live Darius 1 

Long live great Daniel too the people’s friend ! 
Dar. Draw near, my subjects. See this holy 
man ! 

Death had no power to harm him. Yon fell band 
Of famish’d lions soften'd at his sight, 

Forgot their nature, and grew tame before him* 
The mighty God protects his servants thus! 
The righteous thus he rescues from the snare ! 
While Fraud’s artificer himself shall fall 
In the deep gulf his wily arts devise 
To snare the innocent ! 

A courtier. To the same den 

Araspes bears Pharnaces and his friends : 

Fall’n is their insolence ! With prayers and tears 
And all the meanness of high-crested pride, 
When adverse fortune frowns, they beg for life. 
Araspes will not hear- You heard not me,” 
He cries, when i ior Daniel’s life implor’d ; 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. 


27 


By a commencing series is meant that, which 
begins a sentence, but does not conclude it. By 
a concluding series is meant that, which ends the 
sentence, whether it begin it or not. 

Series, whose members consist of single words, 
are called simple series ; and those, whose mem- 
bers consist of two or more words, compound 
series. 


SIMPLE SERIES. 

RULE 1. 

When two members, consisting of single words, 
commence a sentence, the first must have the 
falling, and the last the rising inflexion. 

Ex. Exercise and temperance strengthen the constitu- 
tion. 


RULE. 2. 

When two members, consisting of single words, 
conclude a sentence, as the last must naturally 
have the falling inflexion, the last but one assumes 
the rising inflexion. 

Ex. The constitution i3 strengthened by Exercise and 
temperance. 

This rule is the converse of the former. It 
must, however, be observed, that sentences of 
this kind, which can scarcely be called a series of 
particulars, may, when commencing, assume a 
different order of inflexions on the first words, 
when the succeeding clause does not conclude 
the sentence. 

b 5 


28 


ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION* 


RULE 3. 

When three members of a sentence, consisting 
of single words, succeed each other in a com- 
mencing series, the two last are to be pronounced 
as in Rule 1, and the first with the falling inflex- 
ion, in a somewhat lower tone than the second. 

Ex. Manufactures, trkde, and Agriculture, naturally em- 
ploy more than nineteen parts of the species in twenty. 

A man that has a taste for imlsick, pointing, or archi- 
tecture, is like one that has another sense, when compared 
with such as have no relish of those arts. 

RULE 4. 

When three members of a sentence, consisting 
of single words, succeed each other in a con- 
cluding series, the two last are to be pronounced 
as in Rule 2, and the first with the rising inflex- 
ion in a little higher tone than the second. 

Ex. A modern Pindarick writer, compared with Pin- 
dar, is like a sister among the Camisars compared with 
Virgil’s Sybil : the one gives that divine impulse which 
raises the mind above itself, and makes the sounds more 
than human, while the other abounds with nothing bu$ 
distortion, grimace, and outward figure. 

It may not be improper to observe, that al- 
though the series of four, whether commencing 
or concluding, must necessarily have the first and 
last words inflected alike, and the two middle 
words inflected alike, yet that the series of three 
in a concluding member may, when we are pro- 
nouncing with a degree of solemnity, and wish to 
form a cadence; in this case, I say, we not onlj 
may, but must pronounce the first word with the 
falling, the second with the rising, and the last 
with the falling inflexion. 


f 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 279 

His God protected him ; see now if yours 
Will listen to your cries !” 

Dar. Now hear, 

People and nations, languages and realms, 

O’er whom 1 rule 1 Peace be within your 
walls ! 

That I may banish from the minds of men 
The rash decree gone out ; hear me resolve 
To counteract its force by one more just. 

In ev’ry kingdom of my wide- stretch’d realm, 
From fair Chaldea to th’ extremest bound 
Of northern Media, be my edict sent, 

And this my statute known. My heralds haste, 
And spread my royal mandate through the 
land, 

That all my subjects bow the ready knee 
To Daniel’s God — for he alone is Lord. 

Let all adore, and tremble at his name, 

Who sits in glory unapproachable 
Above the heavens — above the heaven of heav- 
ens ! 

His pow’r is everlasting ; and his throne, 
Founded in equity and truth shall last 
Beyond the bounded reign of time and space, 
Through wide eternity ! With his right arm 
He saves, and who opposes ? Hh defends,' 

And who shall injure ? In the perilous den 
He rescu’d Daniel from the lions* mouth ; 

His common deeds are wonders ; all his works 
One ever-during chain of miracles ! 

Q 5 


280 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


Enter Araspes. 

% 

Aran. All hail, () king ! Darius live forever i 
May all thy foes be s Pharnaces is ! 

Ear. Araspes, speak ! 

Ara O let me spare the tale ! — 
5 Tis full of horror ! Dreadful was the sight ! 
The hungry lions greedy for iheir prey, 
Devourd the wretched princes ere they reach d 
The bottom ot the Gen. 

j Oar. Now, now confess, 

*T\vas some Superior hand restrain’d their rage, 
And tam’d their lur:ous appetites. 

People. ’ I’ is nue* 

The God of Daniel is a mighty God I 
He saves and He destroys. 

Aras. O. tr end ! O Daniel 1 

No wav’ring doubts cun ever more disturb 
My se itled faith. 

Dan. To God be all the glory ! 

DIONYSIUS, PYTHIAS, AND DAMON. 

Genuine Virtue commands Respect, even from 
the bad. 

Dionysius. Amazing ! What do 1 see ? It is 
Pythias just arrived, — It is indeed Pythias* 1 
did not think it possible. He is come to die, 
and to redeem lus friend ! 

Pythias. Yes, it is Pythias- I left the place 
of my confinement, with no other views, than to 
pay to Heaven the vows I had made ; to set- 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


28 l 


tie my family concerns according to the rules of 
justice ; and to bid adieu to my children that I 
might die tranquil and satisfied. 

Dio. But why dost thou return ? Hast thou 
no fear of death ? Is it not the character of a 
madman, to seek it thus voluntarily ? 

Pyth. I return to suffer, though I have not 
deserved death Every principle of honor and 
goodness, forbids me to allow my friend to die 
for me. 

Dio Dost thou, then, love him better than 
thyself ? 

Pyth. No ; I love him as myself. But I am 
persuaded that I ought to suffer death, rather 
than my friend ; since it was me whom thou 
hadst decreed to die. It were not just that he 
should suffer, to deliver me from the death which 
was designed, not for him, hut for me only. 

Dio. But thou supposes!, that it is as unjust 
to inflict death upon thee, as upon thy friend. 

Py. Very true; we are both entirely innocent; 
and it is equally unjust to make either of us suf- 
fer. 

Dio. Why dost thou then assert, that it were 
injustice to put him to death, instead of thee ? 

Py. It is unjust, in the same degree, to inflict 
death either on Damon or on myself; but Py- 
thias were highly culpable to let Damon suffer 
that death, which the tyrant had prepared for 
Pythias only. 

Dio. Dost thou then return hither, on the day 
appointed, with no other view, than to save the 
life of a friend, by losing thy own l 


2a2 THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 

Py . I return, in regard to thee, to suffer an 
act of injustice which is common for tyrants to 
inflict ; and with respect to Damon, to perform 
my duty by rescuing him from the danger he 
incurred by his generosity to me. 

Bio. And now. Damon, let me address ray- 
self to thee Didst thou not really fear, that 
Pythias would never return ; and that thou 
wouldst be put to death on his account ? 

Ba. I was but too well assured, that Pythias 
•would punctually return; and that he would be 
more solicitous to keep his promise, than to 
preserve his life. Would to heaven, that his 
relations and friends had forcibly detained him ! 
He would then have lived for the comfort and 
benefit of good men ; and I should have the sat- 
isfaction of dying for him 1 

Bio. What 1 Does life diplease thee ? 

Ba. Yes ; it displeases me when I see and 
feel the power of a tyrant. 

Dio. It is well 1 Thou shalt see him no more. 
I will order thee to be put to death immediately. 

Py Pardon the feelings of a man who sym- 
pathises with his dying friend. But remember 
it was Pythias who was devoted by thee to de- 
struction. I come to submit to it, that I may 
redeem my friend Do not refuse me this con- 
solation in my last hour. 

Bio. I cannot endure men, who despise death, 
and set mv power at defiance. 

Ba. Thou canst not, then, endure virtue. 

Bio . No : I cannot endure that proud, dis- 
dainful yirtue, which contemns life ; which 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR 


233 


dreads no punishment ; and which is insensi- 
ble to the charms of riches and pleasure. 

Da Thou seest, however, that it is a virtue, 
which is not insensible to the dictates of honor, 
justice, and friendship. 

Dio. Guards, take Pythias to execution. We 
shall see whether Damon will continue to despise 
my authority. 

Da. Pythias, by returning to submit himself to 
thy pleasure, has merited his life, and deserved 
thy favor; but I have excited thy indignation, by 
resigning myself to thy jSower, in order to save 
him : be satisfied, then, with this sacrifice, and 
put me to death. 

Py. Hold, Dionysius ! remember it was Pythias 
alone who offended thee : Damon could not. 

Dio . Alas ! what do I see and hear 1 where am 
I ? How miserable ; and how worthy to be so ! I 
have hitherto known nothing of true virtue I 
have spent my life in darkness and error. All 
my power and honors are insufficient to produce 
love. I cannot boast of having acquired a single 
friend, in the course of a reign of thirty years. 
And yet these two persons in a private condition, 
love one another tenderly, unreservedly confide 
in each other, are mutually happy, and ready to 
die for each other’s preservation. 

Py. How couldst thou, who hast never loved 
any person, expect to have friends ? If thou hadst 
loved and respected men, thou wouldst have se- 
cured their love and respect. Thou hast feared 
mankind : and they fear thee : they detest thee. 

Dio. Damon, Pythias, condescend to' admit me 
As a third friend, in a connexion so perfect. I 


284 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


give you your lives ; and I will load you with 
riches. 

Da. We have no desire to be enriched by thee ; 
and in regard to thy friendship, we cannot accept 
or enjoy it till thou become goo ) and jus^ With- 
out these qualities, thou canst be connected with 
none but trembling slaves, and base flatterers. 
To be loved and esteemed by mm of free and 
generous minds, thou must be virtuous, affec- 
tionate, disinterested, beneficent ; and know how 
to live in a sort of equality with those who share 
and deserve thy friendship. 

fenelom, Archbishop of Cambray . 


THE CHILDREN WHO WOULD BE THEIR OWN 
MASTERS. 

Camillus. Ah ! Papa, how I should wish to be 
big ! to be as big as you 1 

Mr. Orpin. And why should you wish so, my 
dear ? 

Cam. Because then I should not be under any 
body’s command, and might do whatever came 
into my head. 

Mr. Orpin. I suppose, then, you would do 
wonders. 

Cam. That I should, I promise you. 

Mr. Orpin. And do you wish also, Julia, to be 
free to do whatever you please ? 

Julia. Yes indeed, papa. 

Cam. Oh ! if Julia and I were our own mas- 
ters ! 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR 


285 


Mr. Orpin. Well, children, I can give you ihat 
satisfaction. After to-morrow morning you shall 
have the liberty of conducting yourselves entirely 
according to your own fancy. 

Cam. Ah 1 you are jesting, papa. 

Mr. Orpin Mo, I speak quite seriously. To- 
morrow, neither your mother, nor I, nor in short 
any body in the house, shall oppose your inclina- 
tions. 

Cam. What pleasure shall we not feci, to have 
our necks out of the yoke ! 

Mr Orpin. That is not all. I do not intend to 
give you this privilege for to-morrow only : it 
shall continue until you come of yourselves, and 
request me to assume my authority again. 

Cam. At that rate, we shall be our own mas- 
ters a long while. 

Mr. Orpin. Well, I shall be glad to see you 
able to conduct yourselves ; so prepare to become 
great folks to-morrow. 

The next day came. The two children, in- 
stead of rising at seven o’clock as usual, lay in 
bed till near nine. Too much sleep makes us 
heavy and listiess. This was the case with Cam- 
illus and Julia. They awoke at length uncalled, 
and got up in an ill-humor. However, they pleas- 
ed themselves a little with the agreeable idea of 
acting in whatever manner they liked the whole 
day. Come, what shall we do first ( said Camil- 
lus to his sister, after they had dressed themselves 
and breakfasted. 

Julia. Why, we’ll go and play. 

Cam. At what ? 

Julia. Let us build houses with cards. 


286 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


Cam. Oh 1 that is very dull amusement. I am 
not for that. 

Julia. Will you play at blind man’s buff? 

Cam. What, only two of us ? 

Julia. Well, at draughts, or at fox and geese. 

Cam. You know I cannot bear those games 
that oblige one to sit still 

Julia. Well, then motion some of your own 
liking. 

Cam. Then we’ll play at riding on a stick. 

Julia. Ay, that is a pretty play for a little girl 1 

Cam . We’ll play then, if you like, at horses. 
You shall be the horse, and I will be coachman. 

Julia. Oh, yes 1 to lash me with your whip, as 
you did t’other day. I have not forgot that. 

Cam. I never do it willingly ; but the thing is, 
you won’t gallop. 

Julia. Ay, but that hurts me : so I won’t play 
at any such game. 

Cam. You won’t ? wont you? Weill let us 
play at hounds and hare. I will be the huntsman, 
and you shall be the hare. Come, make ready ; 
I shall set off. 

Julia Pshaw ! I’ll have none of your hunting. 
You do nothing but tread upon my heels, and 
punch me in the sides. 

Cam. Well, since you do not choose any of my 
games, I’ll never play with you again. Do you 
hear that ? 

Julia. Nor I with you. Do you hear that too ? 

.At these words they quitted the middle of the 
room, where they were standing, and retired each 
into a corner, and there remained a considerable 
time without looking at or speaking to each other. 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


287 


They were still in a pout, when the clock struck 
ten. The afternoon would soon pass over ; there- 
fore Camillus at length approaching his sister, 
said, “ I must do every think that you like. Well 
then, 1 will play at draughts with you for twelve 
chesnuts a game.” 

Julia. I have no chesnuts ; and besides, you 
know you owe me a dozen already. You should 
pay me those first. 

Cam. Yes, 1 owed them to you yesterday ; but 
I do not owe any thing to-day. 

Julia. And pray how did you come to be quit? 

Cam. Nobody has a right to ask any thing of 
those who are their own masters. 

Julia. Very well ! I shall tell my papa of your 
cheating. 

Cam But papa has no power over me now. 

Julia. If that be the case, I won’t play. 

Cam. Then you may do as you like. 

They go away pouting again to the farther ends 
of the room from each other. Camillus began to 
whistle, Julia to sing. Camillus tied knots on his 
whip, and cracked it : Julia dressed her doll, and 
began a conversation with it. Camillus grumbled, 
and Julia sighed. The clock struck again. They 
had another hour left to play in. Camdlus, in a 
pet, threw his whip out of the window : Julia toss- 
ed her doll into a corner. They looked at each 
other, not knowing what to say. At length Julia 
breaks silence : “ Come, Camillus, I will be your 
horse.” 

Cam. There now that is right ! I have a long 
string for the bridle. See here. Put it in your 
mouth. 

B. 


288 THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR# 

Julia. No, not in my mouth. Tie it round my 
waist, or fasten it to my arm. 

Cam. How you talk 1 Did you ever see horses 
have the bit any where but between their teeth ? 

Julia. But I am not a real horse. 

Cam. Well, but you should do just the same 
as if you were. 

Julia. I do not see any occasion for that. 

Cam. 1 suppose you think that you know more 
about it than I do, who am all the day in the stable. 
Come, take it the right way. 

Julia. You have been trailing it about in the 
dirt all the week. No, I’ll never put it in my 
mouth. 

Cam. Then I won’t have it any where else. I 
would rather not play at all. 

Julia. Just as you like 1 

1. A third fit of pouting, more sullen and pee- 
vish than before. Camilius goes for his whip : 
Julia takes up her doll. But the whip refuses to 
crack : the doll’s dressing goes all wrong. Cam- 
ilius sighs, Julia weeps. This interval brought 
on dinner-hour ; and Mr. Orpin came to ask them 
if they chose to have it served up. But what is 
the matter with you ? said he, seeing them both 
quite dull. Nothing, papa, answered the children, 
and, wiping their eyes, followed their fattier into 
the dining-room. 

2. The dinner this day. consisted of a number 
of dishes, and a bottle of wine was opened for each 
of the children. My dear children, said Mr. Or- 
pin, if I had still my former authority over you, I 
would forbid you to taste all those dishes, and 
particularly to drink wine. At least, I would de- 


TKE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


289 


sire yon to be very sparing of them, because 
I know how dangerous wine and high-seasoned 
food are to children. But ye are now your own 
masters, and may eat and drink whatever you 
fancy. 

3. The children did not wait to be told this 
twice. The one swallowed great bits of meat 
without bread ; the other took sauce in whole 
spoonfuls; and they drank full bumpers of wine, 
without remembering to mix water with it. My 
dear, whispered Mrs. Orpin to her husband, they 
will make themselves sick. I fear they will, my 
dear, answered Mr. Orpin ; but I would rather 
they should learn for once, at their own expense, 
how much one may suffer from ignorance, than 
by a premature attention deprive them of the 
fruits of so important a lesson. Mrs. Orpin saw 
her husband’s intention, and therefore suffered 
our thoughtless little couple to indulge their 
greediness. 

4. The cloth was now removed. The children 
had stuffed as long as they were able, and their 
little heads began to be heated. Come with me, 
Julia, cried Camillus, and took his sister with him 
into the garden. Mr. Orpin thought proper to 
follow them unobserved. There was a little pond 
in the garden, and at the edge of the pond a small 
boat. Camillus had a mind to go into it. Julia 
stopped him. You know, said she, that we must 
not go there. Must not ! answered Camillus. 
Do you forget that we are our own masters ? 

5. Oh ! that is true, said Julia : so, giving her 
hand to her brother, they both went into the boat. 
Mr. Orpin drew nearer to them, but did not 

r 2 


290 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


choose to discover himself yet. He knew that 
the pond was not deep. Even if they fall in, said 
he to himself, I shall not have much trouble in 
getting them out The two children wished to 
disengage the boat from the bank, and pushed it 
out towards the middle of the pond ; but they 
were not able fo untie the knots of the rope which 
held it fast. 

6. Since we cannot sail, said the giddy Camil- 
lus, we may at least balance ourselves. So, strid- 
ing across the boat, he began to press it down, 
first on one side, then on the other. Their heads 
being a little dizzy, it was not long before their 
legs failed them. They laid hold of each other 
to support themselves, and fell both filumfi upon 
the side of the boat and from thence into the 
water. 

7. Mr. Orpin flew like lightning from the place 
where he had been hid. He threw himself into 
the water, seized his rash children one in each 
hand, and brought them back into the house, half 
dead with terror. They felt themselves violently 
sick, while they were undressing and rubbing 
with cloths. At length they were put each in a 
warm bed : they fell alternately into a stupor and 
convulsions : they complained of a dreadful head- 
ach and pains in the bowels, were seized with 
frequent fainting fits, and in the intervals with 
shuddering s, sickness of the stomach, and difficul- 
ty of breathing. 

8. In this deplorable condition they passed the 
rest of the day: they sobbed and wept, till at 
length they fell asleep through weariness. Early 
the next morning their father entered their cham- 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


29 


her, and asked how they had passed the night. 
Very ill, answered both, in a feeble voice : we 
could not lie easy in bed, and feel a sickness in 
the head and and stomach yet. 

9. Poor children, how I pity you ! But, added 
he a moment after, what will you do with your 
liberty to-day ? Ye remember that ye enjoy it 
still. Oh ! no, no, answered both eagerly. And 
why, my little friends ? You said, the other day, 
that it was so disagreeable to be subject to the 
direction of others. We have been well punish- 
ed for our folly, replied Camillus. And shall 
take warning for a long lime, added Julia. . 

Mr, O/iin. Ye will not be your own masters 
then, any longer ? 

Cam. No, no, papa: we would rather be told 
by you what to do. 

Julia. It will be much better for us both. 

Mr. Or/iin. Think well of what you say ; for, 
if l resume my authority, t inform you before- 
hand, that my very first orders will be disagree- 
able to you. 

Cam. No matter, papa ; we are ready to do 
whatever you shall think proper. 

Mr. Orpin. Well, I have here a yellow pow- 
der, called rhubarb. It has an unpleasing taste, 
but is excellent for those who have hurt their 
stomachs by excess. Since you consent to fol- 
low my orders, I command you instantly to take 
this powder. Let me see you obey ! 

Cam. Oh ! yes, yes, papa. 

Julia. I would take it, though it were as bitter 
as soot. 


292 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR, 


Mr. Orpin gave them the medicine, and the 
children, without making, as formerly, any grim- 
aces, endeavoured each to excel the other in 
taking it with a cheerful countenance. This 
remedy happily had its effect, and they both re- 
covered very soon. After that, whenever their 
parents would terrify them with threats of pun- 
ishment, they would say, We shall let you be 
your own masters 1 and the children felt more 
terror from this threat, than many others to whom 
one should say, I will put you in prison ! 

Children's Friend . 


TO THE MEMORY OF THE LATE JOSEPH 
BROWNE, OF LOTIIERSDALE, 

One of the people called Quakers, who had suffered a 
long confinement in the Castle of York, and loss of all 
his wordly property, for conscience’ sake. 

“ Spirit, leave thine house of clay ; 

Lingering dust, resign thy breath ! 

Spirit, cast thy chains away ; 

Dust, be thou dissolv'd in death ! . 

Thus the Guardian Angel spoke 
As he watch’d thy dying bed ; 

As the bonds of life he broke, 

An d the ransom’d captive fled. 

“ Prisoner, long detain’d below ; 

Prisoner now with freedom blest ; 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


293 


Welcome frbm a world of wo, 
Welcome to a land of rest I” 

Thus thy Guardian Angel sang, 

As he bore thy soul on high ; 

While with Hallelujahs rang 
All the regions of the sky. 

• Ye that mourn a Father’s loss, 

Ye that weep a Friend no more ; 

Call to mind a Christian cross, 

Which your Friend, your Father bore. 

Grief and penury and pain 
Still attended on his way, 

And Oppression’s scourge and chain, 
More unmerciful than they. 

Yet while travelling in distress, 

(’Twas the eldest curse of sin) 
Through the world’s waste wilderness, 
He had Paradise within. 

And along that vale of tears, 

Which his humble footsteps trod, 

Still a shining path appears, 

Where the mourner walk'd with God. 

Till his Master, from above, 

When the promis’d hour was come, 
Sent the chariot of his love 
To convey the Wanderer home. 

Saw ye not the wheels of fire, 

And the steeds that cleft the wind ? 


294 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


Saw ye not his soul aspire, 

When his mantle dropp’d behind ? 

Ye that caught it as it fell, 

Bind that mantle round your breast ; 

So in you his meekness dwell, 

So on you his spirit rest 1 

Yet, rejoicing in his lot, 

Still shall memory love to weep 
O’er the venerable spot, 

Where his dear cold relics sleep. 

Grave ! the guardian of his dust, 

Grave ! the treasury of the skies, 

Every atom of thy trust 
Rest in hope again to rise. 

Hark 1 — the judgment trumpet calls, 
u Soul, rebuild thine house of clay ; 

Immortality thy walls, 

And eternity thy day 1” 

Montgomery. 


THE SNOW DROP. 

1. Winter 1 retire, 

Thy reign is past ; 

Hoary Sire 1 

Yield the sceptre of thy sway, 
Sound thy trumpet in the blast, 
And call thy storms away. 
Winter ! retire, 

Wherefore do thy wheels delay ? 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR 


295 


Mount the chariot of thine ire, 

And quit the realms of day ; 

On thy state 
Whirlwinds wait ; 

And bloodshot meteors lend thee light : 
Hence to dreary arctic regions, 

Summon thy terrific legions ; 

Hence to caves of northern night 
Speed thy flight. 

l 

2. From halcyon seas 
And purer skies, 

O southern breeze ! 

Awake, arise : 

Breath of heaven ! benignly blow, 

Melt the snow ; 

Breath ot heaven ! unchain the floods, 
Warm the woods, 

And make the mountains flow. 

3. Auspicious to the Muse’s prayer, 

The freshening gale 

Embalms the vale, 

And breathes enchantment through the air : 
On its wing 
Floats the Spring, 

With glowing eye, and golden hair ; 

Dark before her Angel form 
She drives the Daemon of the storm, 

Like gladness chasing Care. 

Winter’s gloomy night withdrawn, 

Lo ! the young romantic Hours 
Search the hill, the dale, the lawn, 

To behold the Snow Drop white 
r 3 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR 


Start to light. 

And shine in Flora’s desert bowers, 
Beneath the vernal dawn, 

The Morning Star of Flowers ! 

4. O welcome to our Isle, 

Thou Messenger of Peace ! 

At whose bewitching smile 
The embattled tempests cease ; 

Emblem of Innocence and Truth 1 
Firstborn of Nature’s womb, 

When strong in renovated youth, 

She bursts from Winter’s tomb ! 

Thy Parent’s eye hath shed 
A precious dew drop on thine head, 

Frail as a Mother’s tear 
Upon her infant’s face, 

When ardent hope to tender fear, 

And anxious love, gives place. 

But lo ! the dew drop falls away, 

The sun salutes thee with a ray, 

Warm as a Mother’s kiss 
Upon her Infant’s cheek, 

W hen the heart bounds with bliss, 

And joy that cannot speak ! 

....When I meet thee by the w r ay, 

Like a pretty, sportive child, 

On the winter wasted wild, 

With thy darling breeze at play, 

Opening to the radiant sky ✓ 

All the sweetness of thine eye ; 

Or bright with sunbeams, fresh with showers, 
O thou Fairy Queen ol flowers ! 

W atch thee o’er the plain advance 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


29 7 


At the head of Flora’s dance ; 

Simple Snow Drop 1 then in thee 
All thy sister train I see : 

Every brilliant bud that blows, 

From the bluebell to the rose ; 

All the beauties that appear 
On the bosom of the Year ; 

All that wreathe the locks of Spring’, 
Summer’s ardent breath perfume, 

Or on the lap of Autumn bloom, 

— All to thee their tribute bring, 

Exhale their incense at thy shrine, 

— Their hues, their odours, all are thine ! 
For while thy humble lorm I view, 

The Muse’s keen prophetic sight 
Brings fair Futurity to light, 

And Fancy’s magick makes the vision true. 

5. There is a Winter in my soul, 

The Winter of despair ; 

O when shall Spring its rage control ? 

When shall the Snow Drop blossom there ? 
Cold gleams of comfort sometimes dart 
A dawn of glory on my heart, 

But quickly pass away : 

Thus Northern Lights the gloom adorn, 
And give the promise of a morn, 

That never turns to day i 
— But hark ! methinks I hear 
A small still whisper in mine ear, 

“ Rash Youth ! repent, 

Afflictions from above, 

Are Angels sent 


298 


THE CHRISTIAN ORATOR. 


On embassies of love, 

A fiery Legion at thy birth 
Of chastening Woes were given, 

To pluck thy flowers of Hope from earth, 
And plant them high 
O’er yonder sky, 

Transformed to stars....and fix’d in heaven. 

Montgomery , 


THE END. 














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